


Afterlife

by Kekgirl21



Category: Feud (TV 2017), Old Hollywood
Genre: AU, F/F, death?, soulmate, this is werid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kekgirl21/pseuds/Kekgirl21
Summary: Bette Davis dies and finds out, that She’ll be sharing an apartment with her soulmate. She’s surprised to find out who it is.
Relationships: Joan Crawford/Bette Davis
Comments: 26
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

The world was closing on around her, Bette felt nothing, as she closed her eyes one last time. It was a lovely day in October and she had done it all. Today was her last day on earth. 

The lights in Paris around her, as the small body breathed one last time. 

„I wonder what happens now.“, Bette thought. The darkness not feeling scary, but comfortable, as she felt everything shutting down, the last thing she heard was someone calling her name. 

She did not know how long the darkness lasted, it could have been a year, or a century or a second, that Bette just floated around the nothingness. 

All of a sudden, light flooded her vision, and Bette had to cover her eyes, so bright and blinding, she feared it would damage her eyes. 

When she dared to open her eyes again, she blinked, tears in her eyes, her vision only returning gradually. 

The room she found herself, was a big office. A dark table sitting in the middle, surrounded by books and trinkets, the walls covered in dark red wallpapers. 

She grabbed a chair, no one around and Bette was quite confused by all of this, when she noticed her hand, that had placed itself on the furniture. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. 

Her hand, as she was used to, had been boney and old, age spots covering it. But, what she controlled now, was smooth, like a baby. Bette pinched herself, she had to be dreaming. It hurt, but not to much. 

When she fell into the chair, her body did not act up, her knees not screaming for rest, her feet not hurting. When she had closed her eyes, her knees had been nothing but bone and skin, but as she lifted her skirt now, the flesh and muscle had returned to the silky skin. 

“You are not dreaming.”, a serious voice sounded through the room. 

A woman came forward, placing a file down on the big table, Bette getting up quickly, surprised at how smooth her body was moving. She took the hand of the woman into her hand, shaking it. 

“Bette Davis.”, she introduced herself, unnecessarily. 

“I know.”, the woman smiled professionally. 

“Welcome Mrs Davis.”, they both sat back, the woman opening the file, opening a pair of reading glasses.

“So.”, the Woman, her voice promised answers, to the question Bette had. 

“My Name is Sandra. I’m a helper here and.”, she paused dramatically. 

“You are dead.”, her tone was flat. 

“Alright.”, Bette smiled to herself. There was an afterlife. How charming. 

“I’ll explain this as briefly as I possibly can, but there will be a manual waiting for you, in case I won’t answer all your questions.”, she opened a drawer and got out a big folder, handing it over to the baffled woman, who sat the heavy thing on her lap. 

“You are dead, and this is the afterlife.”, she continued. “There is no heaven, no hell, no other situation. This is just the next chapter of your life.”, 

facts first, Bette thought, smiling at the idiocy of religion. 

“It’s an easy life here, as you won’t have to do anything, you’ll be provided with a job, that will suit you, our data is extensive.”, Sandra quickly glanced into the file. 

“There is no money, there is no need to work. If you don’t want to pursue your passion, you don’t have to. You don’t have to eat, to sleep, you don’t have to do anything remotely human, while here.”, she smiled towards the woman. 

“You can probably tell, your body has reset itself to its peak of attractiveness, for you.”, She glanced at the paper. “That’s 42.”, she wrinkled her nose. 

“You don’t look 42.”, she remarked. 

“Well I’ve been told I looked my best at 42.”, Bette was still expecting her hands, shocked by how flexible she felt. 

“Good for you.”, the woman continued. “Because, space is infinitely bigger than anybody and this reality is as big as we can imagine this, it’s not that hard to find space for anybody. Nevertheless we have created little cities, full of people that think and feel alike, based in their personalities.”, Sandra seemed like she had done this millions of times. 

“There is a point System that determines where you will be placed. Nevertheless we cant house everyone alone, as building takes time and energy.”

Bette decided not to ask any questions now, as she had the big folder and would be able to read all about this place soon. 

“So two people share an apartment, it’s a simple solution really.“

Bette nodded. That sounded fair. She hoped her man was not anyone remotely ugly. 

“You will be pared with the person that matches your personality perfectly, like a soulmate situation.” 

Bettes eyes widened. A soulmate? Maybe it was Clark Gable? That would be delightful. 

Sandra continues with her explaining: “Because the system is not foolproof, Once every 100 years, if both of the people don’t enjoy the company of the other, they can head out to find another partner. This basically never happens, but I’m obligated to inform you about this.”, Sandra sighed. This was the worst part. 

“This is you apartment keys, this your metro card. There is a big subway here, that can take you pretty much everywhere.”

She opened the file again. “You’ll be placed into GUO69. Oh. I did not expect that.”, she seemed surprised, but only for a short second. 

“There will be someone guiding you for the first few days, helping you. Your soulmate has been here for a longer time too, they will know how this place works.”, she finished the presentation and handed Bette a bag. 

“This is everything that will get you started.”, then a small man came in, guiding the baffled woman out of the office, down an elevator. 

“You’ll find it’s not that hard, once you’ve been here for a while.”, he assured her, while she looked around. Big sky scrapers were everywhere, the streets filled with people, lights blinking, as if a mad person had designed this. 

“GUO69?”, he chucked. “I see.”

“What is GUO69?”, Bette asked, nervously. 

“It’s a beautiful building, a lot of wonderful people live there. Everyone wants to get in, but only a few people live there. Well as you were an actress, you will match it perfectly, it’s basically a big house full of artists.”, he smiled. 

They got on a long train, driving around the city and Bette was so baffled with all those people, talking in all different languages, voices, it was so loud. 

“You’ll get used to it.”, he smiled kindly. 

The place they were stopping at was a big building, all in silver and white. They crossed a big lobby and he handed her the floor plans, that she did not understand. 

“You have to get into this elevator, then turn to the left and then on the right side, you should see your door.”, he nudged her towards the elevator door, that chimed cheerfully. She clutched her folder to her chest, pressing the floor, he told her to. Then rushing upwards, she looked around. No familiar face, she spotted, thank god. She did not want to run into one of her ex lovers, in the afterlife on her first day. 

She turned wrong once, then going back and finding the right door finally. She knocked, and no one answered. 

They key fit and turned, she stepped in. The room was dark and it took Bette a while to find the light switch. The room lit up, showing the yellows and greens, she stepped into the room. A living room, the curtains and eggy yellow. 

“Hello?”, she called out. No one answered. A mirror caught her eye and she took a long look at herself. 

“Damn Bette you look good.”, she twisted and turned, her face so beautiful and sighed. This was wonderful, if only her soulmate would be here. She wondered if it was a man she knew. 

The apartment was not big, a living room, the kitchen big enough for her liking and a bedroom, with one big bed. 

“Well i suppose, if that’s my soulmate we should be sleeping in one bed.”, she chuckled to herself. 

When she got tired of exploring, the, she had to wonder, rather feminine interiors, she went over to the sofa. 

The sofa reflected in the lights, not like the fabric she expected and when she felt the velvet, Bette flinched. That was not the fabric that reflected the light, that was a thin layer of plastic. 

Who put plastic over their sofa, she wrinkled her nose. 

It hit her with the force of a truck. This had to be a mistake, this could not be. 

A key turned in the door, and it opened. The figure entering, two shopping bags in each hand. 

“I’m sorry for being late, I did not expect you until later.”, the familiar voice rang in Bettes ears, the figure not looking up form her bags. 

“I’m Joan. Joan Crawford.”, she looked up. Shock spread over her face and she dropped her bags to the floor, something breaking on the white tiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we GO! tell me what you think!!!

“Oh no no no no no.” Bette cursed inwardly. 

“They’ve got to be bullshitting me.”, she ran a smooth hand over her hair, then she turned. 

“Oh Hi Joan.”, a smile plastered her face, forced. 

“What are you doing in my rooms?”, Joan stood there, in the door frame, one hand on her hips in defence. 

“Your rooms?”, Bette stood up from the plastic sheets, her legs slightly sticking to it. 

“Your rooms Joan? I was directed to these rooms. These are my rooms and I intend to live here with a nice gentleman.”, she took a deep breath. 

“Maybe Lay of the liquor and then you’ll find you own apartment.”, she huffed. This was impossible. 

“Are you serious? This is my apparent and I want you to leave this instant. My partner is supposed to be here any minute-“, Joan stopped. This was not possible. 

The wheels where turning in her head, Bette could see it, she herself had hoped it would turn out to be a mistake, but by the look on her face she could be pretty much sure, it was not the case. 

“No.”, Joan stormed out of the room, shouting behind her:” follow me. NOW.”

Bette closed the door behind her, taking the key in her right hand and tried to follow the raging woman, that practically ran down the long halls with the plush carpet and nice lighting. 

They reached a big two winged door, Joan practically breaking down the wood, storming in the room, the door nearly slapping into Bettes face. 

“Dean.”, Joan shrieked, loud and shrill. Bette noticed she was shaking, her eye wild, like a tiger, or maybe a rabies infected dog. Only the foam was missing from her mouth. 

Bette stood there at the door, watching the woman pacing around the room in a fit. 

A tall man approached them, when he saw Joan his face fell for a quick second, Bette caught it just in time, otherwise she would have believed he, like any man, loved Joan to death. Literally. 

“Joanie.”, he tried to hold out his hand, trying to stop her from running around, but she was furious. 

“Dean.”, she stopped in her path. “This Must be a mistake.”, she pointed at Bette. 

“This.”, at a loss for words she exclaimed with her hands. “This is NOT. No No.”, Bette stood there, her hands flung to each other, suddenly a bit timid. 

“I’m sure it can be explained and reversed.”, she tried to chime in. Apparently her de-ageing had also brought her shyness back.

Dean took a long look at the documents Bette had slipped on the table, comparing Joans papers, the numbers, typed something on a sort of machine with a small screen, like a theatre in a box, shook his head. 

“No this is correct.”, he was clearly uncomfortable, shrinking down, as the moments passed by. 

“I’m sorry, but this is what is intended, you two are indeed the most compatible for each other.”, he tried smiling but failed. 

“You are telling me.”, Joan was now screaming. “I’ve waited literally twenty years for my partner and I get this.......this.....scum?”, she crossed her arms in a fit. 

“God damn I hate this place.”, she suddenly turned, walking out of the wooden door, slamming it hard, the room shook. 

He sighed, seemed glad that she left. “Bette.”, he looked at her. “I’m sorry for this, she has been insufferable ever since she arrived and no one was here with her.”, Dean smiled apologetically, his hands running through his hair. 

“I’m sort of a maid for everything here. Usually I enjoy it greatly, I love helping people.”, he sat down behind his desk and Bette scooted over to the desk, still marvelling at how smooth her body felt, while walking. 

“She has been the pain of my non existence.”, they both laughed at his bad joke, glad to release some of the tension. 

“If you ever need anything, I’m here to help. You need to get back now. It’s nearly closing hours.”

Bette look at him puzzled. 

“Oh no one told you yet.”, he sighed again. “Sometimes I wonder what people even work for, when they can’t get anything right.”

Bette smiled, still confused, in sympathy. 

“There are a few rules, that we all have to follow. This building has a strict ruling, for when you can leave the apartment and when you have to stay in, it’s so that we don’t all go out at the same times.”, he got out a big map. 

“This District is allowed to go out to shop or drink until 9. Then all have to be in the chambers.”, he gave her a small box. 

“Here, a watch. They pretty much strip you off all belongings, so that you can start over with a fresh start.”, he shook his head. 

They had ten minutes left, so he guided her out of the door, one hand placed firmly on the small of her waist. 

“What happens when I miss the curfew?”, she asked, when they met the door. 

“You can’t. One of us will get you and bring you to your room.”, he smiled but it did not reach his eyes. Bette wondered what that meant and if it involved hurting her. 

“Now Go in. I hope you can sleep.”, he seemed to feel sorry for her, to leave her in the lions cave. 

“I thought we don’t have to sleep.”, she wrinkled her face in confusion. This was not making sense. 

“Yes but what else are you going to do For the next few hours.”, he chuckled, turning and leaving. 

When she entered the doors the rooms where dark, the light was turned out, not a single sound was made. The door to the bedroom was closed and Bette was glad about this. She made her way to the plastic clad soft, finding two blankets, laying one down, taking off the while shoes, she wore. Apparently they had put her body in simple while cotton, down to the underwear. She was unbelievably tired now, even though she knew she did not have to be. Closing her eyes she covered herself with the thin blankets. This was going to be a great next 100 years. 

She awoke a few hours later to a loud noise. Confused she propped her body up, staring into the darkness. A loud scream erupted the bedroom, pained. 

Joan must have hurt herself. Was it even possible to hurt yourself here? Bette wondered shortly. Then something slammed into the wall, glass shattered. It sounded like a hurricane was going through the room. 

“This.” She screamed. “Is not fair.” 

Bette felt as if time stopped. Yes they did not like each other, but she wasn’t so bad. Yes it was unusual, that they were both women, but had Joan not always been with women? Bette recalled directly someone mentioning to her, that Joan had slept with a woman half her age on a set for a movie. 

Bette herself would never do such things, no feelings involved for her, but maybe they were platonic soulmates, like a strong friendship. The room shook again, as Joan stormed out, running into the bathroom, the shower starting as soon as she hit the tiled floor. 

When she came out, she had her hair back, the water turning it dark instead of her naturally red. 

“What are you looking at.”, she snapped, a bit calmed down, but still angry. 

Bette got up. 

“You are going to listen to me.”, she stepped closer. “I’m not going to be abused by you. You are not going to play your little mind games with me. If we have to live next to each other for a hundred years, we can not change that.”, Bette shook now, angry. 

They stood in front of each other, both equally tall, as their eyes stared into each other. 

“I wont be in your way and you will not stand between mine. Is. That. Clear. Joan Crawford.”, she forced the words out, hitting Joan with them like a fist fight. 

Joan frozen, her eyes empty. Bette thought for a second she had broken the woman, tempted to each out, to see if she would move. 

Then Joan turned, going back into the bedroom, the door slamming and Bette went back to her improvised bed.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a small bell chiming in Bettes ears. She opened her eyes. Where was she. This was not her hotel room, not her bed, she felt differently, then yesterday. 

When her eyes fell on the yellow curtains, she came to senses. She was dead, she was sleeping on a sofa and worst off all, Joan Crawford was only a few feet away. 

The chiming did not stop until she glanced at the weird watch, the man had given her last night. The front was shiny and a small picture was playing. She touched it and it stopped vibrating. “What a weird thing”, she muttered, but at least the noise stopped. 

Her attention was grabbed once again by the device, when it popped a scream up, like a floating book, in the middle of the air, she nearly fell of the sofa, holding out the arm it was attached to as if it would attack her.

“Welcome Bette.” She read. 

“I hope you have slept well, for your first night in this new chapter of your existence.”

She shook her head. She had not. 

“This first week is a week of introduction. You will be able to set up your new life. Decide if you want to work, where you want to work, if you want to peruse any hobbies, any interest, what you want to wear and find new and old friend.”, Bette read out loud. 

“In your manual you will find a big plan of the city and your building. As well as an explanation of all the places you can visit.” She grabbed her manual. 

“Your companion as well as your building manager will be able to help you, as you find your new life.” 

“Great.”, she muttered, “thats bullshit. Now how do I close this.”

The screen disappeared as if on command. Bette got up, now that it was day, the light hit the room and a million rainbow light hit the ceiling, reflected by the many glasses on the window stills. When she looked out, she was overwhelmed, by the vastness of the city. There were streets and lights where ever her eyes reached, people of all ages and sizes and centuries.

She decidedly she wanted to get out off this dress. 

“Where can I find a proper clothing store.”, she popped open the manual, to the shopping chapter, that took up almost 400 pages. 

The first line read:” if you want to find a particular store selling a particular garment, just tap the side off your watch and state your wish, it will open a map, that will lead you to the location.

Bette pressed her finger onto the cold metal. A red light blinked. “Day dress.” She said. Another one of those screens plopped up, startling her again. The blinking lights already hurt her head, but a sense of curiosity took over. 

“Turn left outside your door.” The screen said. How did they know where she was? She got up, out on her default white shoes and decided to check into the bathroom. Right. She had no toothbrush yet. 

There was still no sign of Joan, so she just took hers. “Suck my ass.”, Bette thought, as she knew, Joan would be furious with her, if she ever found out. 

There was still no noise coming from the bedroom, as the woman was sleeping soundly, so Bette closed the door, not caring if it woke her up. 

The screen directed her out of the big building, Bette admired the high ceilings and red carpet. This was not what she was used to, usually her choosing of estate was simple, in her Yankee way, But she could not deny the place was beautiful. 

The moment she hit the pavement outside, she felt small and uncomfortable. So many people rushed around, all with the weird screens, she had not noticed yesterday, on her way to the new home. If she could call the place a home.

When she arrived at the destination, she looked the building up and down. A simple store, one floor, a red and white striped door and almost no people around. This would do. 

The woman in the store looked normal, her smile, reddened cheeks and easy dress a comforting view for Bette. 

She tried to turn her screen off, tapping on the weird watch. The screen disappeared and the woman turned to her. 

“Hello!”, her smiled was contagious and Bette glowed back. This was perfect. 

“Hello!”

“May I help you!”, the woman was excited.

“Yes, I need a few dresses.”, Bette looked around the store. 

“Oh we don’t sell that here.”

Bettes face fell. Didn’t she say dresses? 

Then the woman burst out into laughter. “I’m just kidding.”, she giggled. “This Shop only sells dresses.”

“Oh.”, started to laugh with, the confusion washing off her. 

She started to describe the kind of dresses she was looking for, the fabric and the cut and the woman wrote everything down always with a big grin. 

“Is that all Mrs Davis?”, she asked. 

“Yes.-“, she stopped. “You know me?” 

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry, this is all so new for me. I’ve only....been dead for a day.”, she shrugged. 

“Oh, that’s quite alright. Your doing great! If you need anything else I’ll be happy to help!”

Bette put on a white dress, big shoulders and an a line skirt, buttons down the front, off white but not eggshell, with pockets over her bosom. She admired herself in the mirror, her legs her waist for gods sake her waist. 

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?”

“I’m not used to it yet.”, Bette mumbled. The face that stared back was hers, once had been hers. It was entrancing to see herself again. 

“When I died I had cancer, so all my hair was gone.”, the dressmaker took in the dress with a quick hand, pinning down the skirt. Bette saw the full head of locks bounce around her. 

“It’s a miracle. Truly.” 

The woman started babbling, while she fussed around Bette.  
“It’s always exciting to have people in here, that you admired on earth. Mrs Dietrich has been here and oh!”she excitedly jumped up and down. “Mrs Crawford buys all her day dresses from me. She likes my cuts.” 

“Crawford as in Joan?” Bette grabbed her bags, trying to sound uninterested. 

“Yes, she came in only two days ago, just to buy a few dresses for when her companion arrived. She had waited for so long you know. It crushed her, to know her soulmate was still on earth, while she had to wait.”, the blonde continued.  
Bette gulped. Joan had been so excited. 

“He must have arrived here yesterday, I wonder if she’s happier now.”, then she stopped herself , recognising she probably had said too much. 

“Well thank you dear.”, Bette grabbed the rest of her bags. “Do you happen to know where Crawford buys her bags and shoes?”, she added. 

“If you want to, I can commission perfectly matched ones!”, the woman pulled out a big book. Here take a look.”, Bette leaned over the book, watching carefully pages of pages of shoes, nodding and shaking her head. 

“It will be delivered tomorrow, if that’s quite alright.”

“Thank you so much.”, Bette was truly grateful, to have someone take a few things of her busy hands. 

“You have a very nice shop.”, she smiled and went outside again. She had spent much longer inside than she originally planned, but her strange watch told her, she still had much time until she had to be inside. 

Not wanting to go back, she told her watch with clumsy fingers, she wanted to buy a blanket and a pillow. She and to take the metro for this one, but she quickly understood if one followed the crowd, one would be swept into the right direction. It was easier than she imagined, the big mall, filled to the brim with blankets and pillows. 

It was strange to see all the centuries of blankets piled onto each other, quilts and wollen, scratchy and soft. Polyester and linen. She found a worker and quickly ordered the blanket. The man was so enthusiastically talking about the difference between blankets, it was beautiful to watch. 

“May I ask you something.”, she was carefully wording the question. He nodded.

“What made you work here?”, she stared at him directly. 

“It was a suggestion by my house manager, I fell in love with this store. I guess selling blankets was my passion all along.”, he smiled brightly, his shiny teeth blinking. 

“That’s so nice.”, Bette patted his hand, deciding on the newer blanket, he recommended. The man said they would ship everything to her house. 

Joan crossed her mind. Maybe they had just gotten off on a bad night. Maybe Joan was just disappointed she hadn’t been Gable or another attractive man. Maybe she just had been shocked by the woman. Maybe they could be friends, could they not? 

It was at least worth to try, Bette decided, in a good mood after all the shopping.  
She went towards the supermarket she had crossed on her way to the dressmaker, and took some wine and cheese with a few sorts of fruits.  
It still felt weird not to pay for anything, just going into a store and then leaving. 

When Bette finally stumbled back, packed with bags over bags over bags, it was nearly 8. 

The door opened and the first thing she noticed was the pungent smell off citrus cleaning supplies. The bathroom floor was open, light shining into the living room. Quietly, Bette placed her bags down, stepping towered the bathroom. Joan was there, kneeling on her floor, scrubbing and rubbing over the tiles, her body practically shaking, as she cleaned frantically. 

Stepping back, Bette decided not to say anything, she lay the food onto the table, grabbed two wine glasses and placed the cheese on a wooden board, she found in the kitchen, then sat back and waited, for the scrubbing woman to finish. When Joan finally finished her cleaning, her hands were red and hurt. She wiped the tears away and took a deep breath in. 

Bette stood up, walking towards the woman. 

“Joan?”, she tried to sound civil. “I’m sorry for the way I talked to you yesterday.”

“I’m not.”, Joans face was swollen, it looked like she had cried for hours. “I’m going to bed.”, she closed the door to her bedroom and locked it. 

Bette shook her head, eating the cheese out of frustration. Then the day caught up to her and she sank down on the sofa, waiting for sleep to overtake her. 

Bette woke up, from a noise. It was not loud, like last night. The woman behind the door was crying. Sobbing, as if she tried to suppress the noise.


	4. Chapter 4

Bette lay still. The sobbing continued, melodic, like a lullaby. Slowly swung her legs out of bed, her feet cold on the floor, as she tip toed to the door, carefully listening. 

Crawford clearly hated her with all her might. Bette knew that, it had always been that way and they’d never gotten along perfectly. But it had not been as bad as everyone made it out to be.   
Why was she so angry now.....

Then It hit her, right there in front of the door. Joan had waited for longer then 20 years for a man. Her divorces, just like Bettes, had been all over the papers, every time. She never had married out of love, never been with someone that had loved her for who she truly was. 

And in the afterlife, everyone around her was happy with the people they got paired up with, while she...was just left alone. It must be so hard to find someone here, if everyone got a soulmate. Who would cheat on their soulmate, even if it was Joan Crawford. Maybe the situation was unusual. 

Out in the city Bette had not seen one person without a wedding ring or a partner, even the sells woman had rings on. Joan seemed to be alone here. In this apartment, there were no pictures, except for the paintings, nothing. And then Bette had turned up, a woman off all things. 

Bette figured all of this out, while standing in front of the door, listening to the other woman crying and empathy hit her, like a bus. This must have been traumatising. 

She grabbed the other bottle of wine, filled up a glass nearly to the brim and knocked on the two winged door. Joan must have unlocked it, during the night, as the door let her in, when she pressed the handle down, gripping the glass tight. 

The crying stopped as soon as Bette went in. 

“What do you want.”, the woman had flung her body over the bed, her face red and tears running down her cheeks, chest and hands. 

“Just....”, Bette tired not to look at her, Joan looked to vulnerable, so lost. She stepped into the room, freezing. How cold was this place. 

“Here.”, she left the glass on the nightstand, quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Well that had gone better than expected.

When she woke up the next day there was a cup of coffee on the kitchen table. It stood there, out of place. No one was near, Joan had vanished out of the apartment, Bette had checked, but the cup was still warm. 

The blonde sat there, contemplating if she should drink it, finally taking the warm liquid and sipping on the hug of a cup, coffee truly is. 

If Joan had made herself that cup, she could make another one.

Her watch told her this morning she would be introduced to a few residents of the building she was living in. A meeting would be held at 3, until then, she’d be free to do what she wanted, exploring. The screen told her, a nice park was nearby if she wanted to go on a walk. 

She decided, why not. She could try and buy cigarettes on her way, the fact that she had not smoked for nearly two days in a row was astounding, yet she did not crave it, as she had when....well when she had not been dead, apparently death got rid of that. 

The streets were as crowded as yesterday, yet she felt a bit better navigating with her weird watch through the masses of people. No one recognised her, no one screamed for her autograph, this was better than New York City. And it housed literally everyone that had ever died. 

The park was so big, she knew she’d get lost without help. Bette found a bench under a tree and sat down, she had wondered alongside the river, that crossed the park, looked at a few flowers and smoked around a pack of cigarettes. The sun warmed her face, and it confused her only a little bit, how could there be a sun, when she was dead, she had to look it up In her manual. 

A little bird had been picking at her cigarette buds and she smiled at the small creature. Had he died too? Probably. The watch vibrated again, startling her. The small thing blinked and told her, her meeting would start in around one hour. What did this curious device could not do, it was unclear to the woman. 

Bette was nervous on her way back. She did not know what to expect, what to wear, so when she opened the door, she was glad Joan was not there. 

When she came down, in a smart dress suit and a hat, everyone stared. At least she felt like it. Hundreds of people were sitting around large tables, in the big basement and Bette felt her anxiety flare up. 

A strong hand grabbed her arm, pulling her down into an empty chair. 

„Thank you.“, Bette whispered, the people opposite of her staring, Joan did not answer her, staring towards the stage, that graced the front of the room. 

Dean, the man that Bette had talked to a few days ago, went towards the microphone. 

„Ladies.“, he winked. The crowd cheered, even Joan gave him an hand. 

„And gentleman.“, he ruffled his papers. 

„Last year had been a great success.“, he smiled into the room, the microphone clicking. 

„I’m glad to report, that the whole afterlife enjoyed our production. This year it will be an even greater success.“, the crowd clapped, some men as loud as they could. 

„It’s really a wonderful time, between productions.“, Dean continued. „But we’ve got to think about the next one soon, this is why I’m glad to announce, that we’ve got a new resident at our exquisite house of theatre.“ 

Bette turned red, as hundreds of eyes turned around, staring at her, with her best movie star smile, she waved.

„Bette Davis“

Everyone went wild, they cheered and clapped and whistled. 

„She’s here with her partner Joan.“ dean grabbed the microphone again. Suddenly the room went quiet, a whisper rushed over. 

„Bette and Joan?“, they asked, again and again. 

„I’m sure.“, Joan stood up, placing a theatrical hand on Bettes shoulder. „We both will be able to contribute much to this years production.“, her teeth reflected the light of candles, Bette looked up at her.

It was funny really, to an outsider it much have looked like they were a couple, right now. Bette looking adoringly at Joan, when it was quite the opposite.   
Bette nearly gave up on smiling, when the hand tightened around her shoulder. 

„I look forward to it.“, Dean gave a daring speech after that, about the importance of teamwork, and Joan sat back down, quite happy with herself, Bette could tell. Once she slipped out her flask, pouring a big gulp of something into her coffee and when she noticed Bette had seen her do it, Bette smiled and pushed her own cup towards her. 

They drank in silence, listening to the older man explaining the situation in great detail. 

„So we are going to produce a movie?“, Bette leaned back, towards Joan. 

„Better. It’s a play.“, Joans eyes twinkled. „We do everything ourselves. Last year I had the lead.“, she looked so happy with herself, Bette didn’t even noticed the bitterness in her voice. 

They returned to the quarters together, both quiet, civil, a play Bette found exciting, she sure would try out for it.

Maybe they finally clicked, Bette smiled at that thought. She needed a friend now. 

„Good Night Joan.“ she went towards the sofa, smiling. Joan just closed her door, not answering. 

„At least she didn’t slam the door this time.“, Bette whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

The cup of coffee was mocking her from across the room, Bette had read her morning message and immediately gotten out of bed to read the manual. 

The manual stated, that the play they would produce–thankfully there was a whole chapter about it– was to be one season, the writers were probably starting to work on it, as it had been announced yesterday. It must be a big production with a great many people in it. Bette was kind of excited, even if she would only try out for a small part.   
She did not want to steal anyone’s spot light, she wanted to do a good job. 

There was a full list of men and women leads, 

Joan had left the apartment long before Bette had woken up, leaving only the ominous cup of coffee on the clean kitchen table, that was now staring back at the blonde. 

Her watch did not tell her to go anywhere today, so she decided to get some groceries, the fridge was completely empty, wiped down with vinegar and water, the lightbulb blue and bright. 

When she began cooking a hearty meal, with chicken liver, onions and red wine, the smell of hospital vanished from the apartment. A cigarette and a glass of cooking wine later and Bette felt slightly better. This was now her kitchen for a while, not just Joans. 

The familiar clicking of heels, made her spin her head around. Stopped before the door. 

„I really can’t believe it.“she spoke to someone outside. 

„I’ve waited for so long and now, it’s her?“, she put her keys in, not turning them  
Bette perked up. They were talking about her.

„I know and you deserve someone that truly loves you, a good man.“, another female voice chimed in, not as soft as Joans. 

„This is the thing.“, Joan sighed. 

„Who would love me?“, her voice was muffled through the door. Bette gulped, she sounded so sad and bitter, the woman every man on earth had adored, defeated by being along for twenty years. 

„Sweetie, everyone loves you.“, the other voice stated. 

„Thanks.“, Joan turned the key and Bette jolted into the air, nearly knocking over a her glass. 

When Joan stepped into the apartment, Bette pretended to be stirring the food,tired steps dragged down the hall, Bette fought with herself, she should not call her, not talk to her. 

„Joan?“, she cursed herself inwardly. 

The woman turned, looking into the kitchen. 

„I’ve made something to eat.“, Bette held up the wine as well. „Would you like to join me? I have some questions about the play and I’d like to.“, she had considered this carefully, „know about your lead last year. It must have been a great honour.“

Joan seemed stunned, standing there in the door frame, her head held high. Bette noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. What was she now embarrassed about? 

Then Joan nodded. A small nod, her hair shifting, falling into her eyes. The woman sat down into the chair with grace, Bette could not understand, how a person could move in such a manner. 

She took out two plates, the porcelain smooth and white, and two glasses, filling them with the red liquid, the wine reflecting light onto the table. She placed the meal in front of the other woman, that watched her with curiosity and something Bette could not place. 

„I was the lead last year and five years ago.“, Joan picked up her fork, her slim fingers holding the silver tight. „It’s an honour only few women here can call their own.“

She ate the first bite, Bette watching her, waiting for her approval. When she took another bite a small smile played around Bettes lips. 

„This year we’ll have to top last year.“, Joan continued. „I assume you will want to try out as well?“

Bette took a sip of her wine, not breaking eye contact. „Yes.“, she smiled. „Not the lead, no. Something small perhaps.“

They ate in silence. Both finishing around the same time. When Bette got up to take away their plates, Joan stopped her. 

„I’ll do it.“, she got up as well.

„I can help you if you want.“, Bette placed her glass on the counter. 

„I’ll do it.“, Joans voice was now deeper, the grip around her glass tighter. 

Bette watched as the woman got out her gloves, the soap and let in the water into the sink. She scrubbed and wiped and brushed over the plates until they were shiny. 

„You look very nice today.“, Bette did not know what came over her, but somehow it slipped out. It was the objective truth, she did look pretty, with her face reddened, flushed from the hot water, her hair falling into her face. 

Joan did not turn around, she froze in place, like a statue, before mumbling a quick „thank you.“

She pulled off her gloves with quick hands, and Bette saw her red face in the corner of her eyes as the woman stormed out of the room. 

When Bette sat back on her sofa, grabbing the manual again, reading about the way the housing system worked, the bedroom door opened. 

„Youdonthavetosleeponthecouch.“, she muttered, her head down. 

„What now?“, Bette smiled, her eyebrows wrinkled. 

„You don’t have to sleep out here.“, Joan repeated, still not looking up. 

Bette got up, walking over to the bedroom. 

„We could place another bed inside.“, the blonde suggested. 

„No room.“ Joan opened the doors wider, it was true. The bed did not leave any space, except for a three winged, full length mirror and a big vanity, as well as a wall of storage space. Bette had hung her clothes into a small closet in the living room, a day earlier. 

„I built a wall“, Joan timidly went over to the bed and pointed at the blankets she piled up in the middle. 

„Well that’s quite the German way.“, Bette chuckled, turning and sat back down.

„Thanks Joan, this couch was not meant to be slept on.“, she touched the plastic. „Or sat on in that regard.“

„It’s functional.“, The red head defended herself. 

„No.“, Bette went back to her book. Tucking her feet under her body and started to read, feeling the two bright blue eyes on her. 

„Do you want to join me?“, she asked, without looking up. 

Small steps followed, Joan sitting onto the plastic covered armchair, grabbing some wool and started to knit with slightly shaking fingers.

Silence fell over them, like a blanket, and Bette followed the lines of her book with her big eyes. 

Joan got up sometimes during the afternoon and came back with two cups, placing one in front of Bette, who looked up for a quick second, smiling, meeting slightly scared eyes, for the first time in what seemed to be forever. 

The city outside turned dark, lights lit up into the blues and blacks, both of their watched vibrating at 9 pm, closing time had come. 

Joan got up, lightly walking over to the bathroom, taking a last shower, brushing her teeth, Bette saw her walk out to the kitchen with a lemon, but she knew better not to ask. Joan came out in silk pyjamas, her hair wrapped up in a turban. 

Bette rushed into the bathroom, brushing her teeth and brushing her her shortly, then putting on her night gown and she stepped into the bedroom. 

Joan had already stepped into the huge bed, on her back, reading a small book. 

Suddenly timid, Bette slowed her steps, she stilled in front of her side, lifting her blanket and slipped into the warmth. The blankets were heavier then she had expected, but she didn’t mind. 

Joan closed her book. 

„Please dont move too much.“, she turned and her nightstand light went out. It was pitch black now. Bette lay there, on her back and listened to the other woman’s breathing, determined not to move. 

Just before she fell asleep Joan whispered:“ did you mean it?“

„Did I mean what?“, Bettes voice was sleepy and deep. 

„What you said earlier.“, It was almost impossible to hear her, she spoke so quietly. 

„That you looked breathtaking?“, Bette felt the woman shift. „Yes.“

The breath next to her hitched.


	6. Chapter 6

When Bette woke up, it was still pitch dark. There was no way to find out, how late or how early it was, as there was no light coming in and looking at a watch meant moving and moving meant waking up Joan and that was not something Bette would want. 

Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of the breath next to her, coming from the piles of blankets between them. The little huffs and slow intakes of breath were calming, yet Bette did not drift off towards sleep again. She felt she had changed somehow, during this dying thing. Some part of her had shifted. 

On earth she had been Bette Davis, the witty chainsmoking moviestar of the past. Always a cutting remark, always a word of confidence. Now? She was not quite sure, who she even was anymore. Her children were still alive, her things and her apartment did not define her anymore. Who even was she? The body next to her shifted, the mattress moving slightly. 

“Get it together, Bette.”, she told herself off, forcing her eyes shut again. “You will sleep now and tomorrow you will go out and write your name on that list of people that want to audition for the play.” The mattress shifted again, this time something bumped into her arm. Joan had pushed her arm under the pillows and blankets, her hand now resting hot against her skin. 

Bette did not move, laying on her back, the time suddenly standing still for what felt an eternity. She tried to close her eyes, but they always shut back open, as Joan moved a bit, her fingers stroking her arm. She was sleeping very tight apparently, her breath now much deeper than before and Bette was awake, so awake. The morning rolled around, Joan stirred once or twice, before her arm vanished from Bettes side, the woman closing her eyes, pretending to be fast asleep. Joan rolled up, pushing her hair back and slowly getting out of bed. Bette shot her a look and found her staring at her. 

“Good Morning.”, Bette tried a smile, in hope that it would ease the tension she felt. 

Without any words Joan turned and walked out of the room, Bette could hear the shower starting and feet tapping on the tiles. The blonde shook her head. She was just confused by everything. First Joan was mean and angry towards her, then she had invited her to sleep in her bed and now she was ignoring her again? What kind of emotional rollercoaster was this supposed to be. The softly whispered question sprung into her head, as she stepped outside to change out of her nightgown into a soft linen dress. 

“Did you mean it?”, Joan had sounded so vulnerable, like a child asking if Santa truly was coming. She had meant it, of course she had. Bette never said anything she did not mean, maybe that was something she needed to work on, her frankness had stood in her way many times before. But in this instance she objectively knew, Joan was a beautiful woman. She had always been one. 

She was interrupted by the bathroom door opening and Joan stepping out, her hair made into a low bun, a simple dark blue dress sitting on her wide shoulders. Bette stepped into the kitchen, grabbing two cups, searching for the coffee. 

“I’ll do it.”, Joan took the cups from her, washing over the brim with hot water for a second, then placing them on the kitchen counter. Bette watched her hushing around the kitchen, brewing the coffee with precision. When she finished, she pushed the cup in front of Bette, then sitting down at the kitchen table.

Bette leaned against the counter. 

“Are you going to audition for the play?”, Bette took a sip. The coffee was perfect. 

“I will.” Joan did not look up from the table she was taxing with her eyes. 

“For the lead?”, Bette smiled. 

“Maybe. No one ever gets it to years in a row, but why not try.”, Joan smiled at the success she had turned out to be, even in the afterlife. 

“I won’t.”, Bette dung her hands around the coffee cup. 

“Good.”

They both were left filled with thoughts, seeming to have reached a little place of acceptance about the situation, Bette felt. 

When they turned to leave the room Joan looked her up and down. 

“Are you sure you wan to go out like this?”, she asked. 

“Yes.”, Bette opened the door. A bit angry at the tone of voice Joan used on her. She liked the dress, it fit her perfectly, no need to be fancy when you are already dead. 

“Wait.”, Joan rushed towards a closet inside of the walls, pulling out a small blue scarf. 

“Here.”, she held her hand out and Bette took it, Bewildered by the gesture. 

“It brings out your eyes.”, Joan looked away as Bette tied the small piece of fabric around her neck, fumbling with the silk. 

They went outside together, taking the stairs instead of the elevator and walked along the halls side by side. Passing by multiple people, Joan greeted everyone with kind arms and hands, people smiling at her and laughing. 

“This is.”, Joan took a quick look at Bette, “my companion, Bette Davis. She has arrived here earlier this week.”

Bette smiled as well, trying her best not to seem to closed off, shaking hands and not remembering a single name. 

“How unusual!”, one of the women exclaimed. “But Joan, darling you are such an extrahiert woman, I knew there had to be someone special for you.”

When they parted Bette asked quietly: “ why is it unusual?”

“Because we are both women.”, Joan looked down. “There is basically a law preventing this from happening, as many people don’t believe in this. It happens very rarely, it’s not bad, just....unusual.”

“Oh.”, Bette frowned. Wasn’t she and Joan supposed to be friendly soulmates, not some sort of lesbian thing. 

“Sapphics usually get paired up with another gay man, these people stay with their kinds here.”, the remark sounded strained, as if Joan herself knew what she was talking about. 

Bette stayed quiet, wondering if Joan would continue. 

“If you cheat here, both of you get outcasted out of the society, that why they keep quiet.”, Joans voice died down.

“I see.”, they stepped up the last few steps towards the board, both signing their names onto a screen, Joan looking down the whole time, never meeting Bettes eyes.

“Id appreciate it, if you would not cheat on me and get caught. I’d like to stay inside this building.”, the fear in her voice wobbled, as if she already suspected Bette from sleeping with a man. Bette wondered if it was very bad to be outcasted, based on Joans reaction it must be not entirely pleasant. 

It’s not that Bette had not already thought about sleeping with another man. How was she even supposed to be here for the next hundred years without sleeping with anyone, she sighed. 

“Okay.”, they turned to walk back, a few people behind them, smiling at Joan and nodding in awe. 

“Joanie.”, a big man emerged from the small crowd. “I’m looking forward to your audition!”, he grabbed her slim hands with his big paws, holding them in his. 

“Thank you.”, her eyes grew somewhat bigger, red spots appeared on her neck. Bette found her shoes to be quite interesting, as she waited for them to finish up the conversation. 

“Did she write her name down as well?”, the man was taking about her now, Joan nodded.  
“Not for the lead no. This.” Joan placed a hand on Bettes shoulders. “Is my companion, Bette Davis. Bette darling, this is Steve.” Bette shook Steve’s hand, definitely sure now, that she did not like him. 

“Ah we’ll see, she’ll go far here. Maybe next year!”, he grabbed the blonde by her shoulders. “Your gonna do great Bett.”, his sweaty hands felt heavy on her body and he pronounced it the English way.

“Thank you.”, she spoke, trying to sound polite, not correcting him.

They left him, standing there and Joan grabbed Bettes hand, as they walked away. When they turned the corner, she let go of Bettes fingers. 

“I’m sorry.”, she wiped her hand on her dress, as if it was dirty. “He tried to seduce me multiple times and I told him no every single one of them.” 

Bette shivered at the thought. 

“Yes exactly. Outcasted. For him.”, Joan snorted uncharacteristically. “Sorry for touching you. I just had to prove a point. I noticed you don’t like being touched.”

“It’s alright.”, Bettes hand was still tingling, somehow she had not minded Joans hand on her. “He’s hideous.”

“I look forward to your audition.”, Joan mused as she pushed her key into the door. “I’ve always loved your work.”

They both entered the room they shared with a newfound sense of purpose in this new world.


	7. Chapter 7

Bette closed the manual and yawned. It was informative, yet incredibly dry to read, so after another hour of trying to understand this place she found herself in, she was fed up with facts. 

“Why are you still reading that thing?”, Joan looked up from her knitting, her little bracelet chiming, as she moved her hand to tug back a strand of hair, that snug it’s way into her vision. 

“It’s all the information we get, right?”, Bette grabbed her cup of tea, pulling it into her lap, the warmth doing wonders for her tired hands. “And I don’t have anything else to do right now.”

“There’s a good bookshop, down the street", Joan started knitting again, the pink wool tangled around her fingers, in contrast with the dark red nail polish, Bette stared at the fingers. 

“Or you can read one of my books.”, she pointed of of her needles towards her bookcase, that was filled to the brim with works, Bette did not recognise. “The ones on the third shelve are my favourites.”, she explained. “Grab one.” 

Bette stood up, carefully walking over to the dark wooden shelves, brushing her fingers over the colourful backs of works from all over the earth. 

She pulled out works by Shakespeare and Kant, the titles not meaning anything to her, leather bound books, paperbacks and linen covered ones, all neatly organised.

“It’s nice that Shakespeare still writes, isn’t it? He’s lovely, I met him a few times. Sometimes he still writes for the play.”,Joan told her, the voice far away. Bette hummed in appreciation. Shakespeare wasn’t really what she needed now. Her eyes fell onto a small book, a black cover, no title, no author on it. This was the one she was going to read. It looked almost forbidden, like a secret, only waiting to be uncovered by her.

Joan had started to count her works loops and the concentrated energy was not to be interrupted, Bette knew how important it was to keep count on ones knitting. Once Bette had yelled at her husband so hard he had not talked to her for a full day, just because he had asked her a question during her counting, it had been a little mitten for her first child. 

She sighed, sitting down on the uncomfortable sofa, opening the book. Still no title, that was quite confusing. She turned the page, finally seeing some letters, tucking her feet under, she curled up, letting her back loosen for a bit. 

Her eyes wandered above the page. The protagonist was a young woman named Sally, no older than twenty, who worked at a bookstore. She was this whimsy, witty thing, that commented on everyone she met. And as Bette found out over the next few pages Sally met another woman in her bookstore, a student at a college, named Doreen. It was well written and Bette could relate, she too had met quite the number of women in bookstores and some of her dearest friends had emerged out of it. 

The two made their way through the loud city and Bette pictured them to be in New York with its blinking lights, just like here in the afterlife. 

“Let’s get out of here.”, Sally said to Doreen and Bette smiled at the fever one felt while young and alive. How she missed it. Bette read on: “Doreen took Sally’s hand into hers and they walked together, towards the big apartment block Sally lived.” Like Joan had done to her hand. Maybe with other intentions, than the two friends in the book, but the friendly gesture still left a warm feeling in Bettes stomach. 

The two friends in the small black book settled in front of the fireplace, playing music and dancing together, Bette could not help but smile a loving smile, remembering the times that she had done the same thing with Olivia. Olivia who was alive, while she was dead.

“Sally reached out, coming closer towards Doreens face, smiling and then brushing her lips with her own. Her hands tangled themselves into Doreens hair.” How cute. Wait. Bette stopped reading. Kissing? Hair? 

“Doreen brushed her tongue over Sally’s lips, her hands now on the small waistline, fingeres curled into the warm flesh.”, Bette blushed. This was heading in a different direction. She should throw this trashy thing away now, definitely stop reading it. Shifting in her seat, trying to look unbothered, she could not drag her blue eyes away from the page.

“They undressed each other, soft fingers brushing over hot exposed skin, Doreen staring to lick her way around Sally’s breasts, Sally moaning out loud.” Something clenched inside of Bette, she pressed her legs together, felling her body react to the words. Suddenly she was made aware of her breath, that desperately wanted to escape her lungs.

“Sally pushend Doreen down, lowering herself over her head, her insane wetness covering the other woman’s face. When she came she sprayed her juices all over the woman.” Bette had to be dreaming, she turned crimson red, at the obscene picture, that played in her mind now. Never before she had thought about, how sapphics made love. 

Enough was enough, she put the book down, Joan was in the kitchen brewing tea. She pressed a warm hand against her hot cheeks, trying to calm down. She walked over to the bookshelf, grabbing the first Shakespeare,she could find. Then it hit her. This was Joans book, one of her supposedly favourites. 

“Finished reading?”, Joans eyes met hers with full force, when she entered the kitchen. 

“Hmm.”, Bette blushed again. She did an awful lot of blushing today. 

“Liked it?”, Joan smirked. Did she know? No, she had not seen anything, she had been knitting, Bette was sure about that. She placed a cup of tea in front of her, her eyes twinkling.

“It was alright.”, Bette lied, not very convincingly, trying to sip on the way to hot tea, burning herself in the process. 

“Careful! That’s hot.”, Joan took the cup from her, fingers brushing over knuckles. 

Bette excused herself, turned and walked into the bedroom, grabbing her nightgown, angry with herself. Her body was reacting in such weird manners to something absolutely not related to her. She took a long shower, her hands trying to wash over her body innocently, yet the burning between her legs did not vanish. It only got worse, when she closed her eyes, a thought about Joan showering right here rushing though her mind. 

“No.” She murmured out loud, brushing her wet hair a bit harder then necessary. When she got out of the bathroom, Joan had already cleaned up, ready to use the water herself. 

“Hope I did not use all the hot water.”, Bette apologised, having read about the low quantities of hot water in each building, this morning. 

Joan brushed her slightly while stepping into the room, and Bette fled into the bedroom, The makeshift wall of cushions upright between the two halves of the bed and she turned off the headlight, only leaving on Joans nightstand light, for her to find a way into the bed. Her body tingled when her back hit the mattress. 

Joan entered shortly after, wearing a different pyjama set than yesterday, this one lighter, somehow more feminine, the soft fabric somehow not as loose as the silk yesterday. Bette noticed she was staring, when Joans eyes met hers in the vanity mirror. 

Joan battered her face with cold cream, rubbing her arms and shoulders, massaging in some sort of concussion. 

“Our bodies stay the same, no matter what you do, no matter what you eat we stay the same.”, she sighed. “And still I can’t not do it.” Her eyes were now somehow clouded with sadness, Bette sat upright, watching her with those big eyes. 

“I got a call today.”, 

Bette knew the voice Joan used, it was the same smalltalk voice she had always used for public affairs, for when she tried her best to be kind. It struck her at first as something rude, if Joan didn’t like her, she could just tell her, but today Bette had realised, Joan really tired to make the best off the situation. She may not like her, but she did not want to fight, she even let her sleep in her bed, instead of the couch. It warmed Bette so much, she thought she might just cry. It was unfair, to stand in the way of the woman’s love, she desperately wanted. 

“They finished the first draft for the play and will announce a list tomorrow.”

“They must have worked day and night on this, if they are so quick.”, Bette seemed bewildered. 

Joan fixed her headscarf one last time, then turning around and gracefully as a swan, she swept over to the bed. 

“We don’t have to sleep.” 

“I know.”, Bette wondered, why she herself did it then, it must be the force of habit. 

“I find it ruins my productivity, if I don’t sleep.”, Joans voice was muffled from the blanket surrounding her. 

She reached over and the light went out, leaving them in the darkness. Bette lay there, flat on her back, staring into the darkness. 

“What did you read?”, Joan asked. 

Bette flushed, from ankle to face, in a hot wave. 

“Just some story, it was on the shelf.”, she heard herself saying, the sleepy mood making her voice even deeper. 

“What was it about.”, Joan pressed, amusement carried over the wall. 

“I didn’t get very far.”, The blonde grabbed her own arms under the blanket, trying not to scream, she knew Joan knew. 

“Did you get to the part where Sally takes Doreen from behind?”, Joan must be into torture, Bette found her legs twitching, she could hear a chuckle rising into the air, but all she felt was heat. 

“No.”, it was a whisper, a husk, nothing more. Her usually very deep and loud voice was now a whimper, as she felt her thighs slick and sticky, rub against each other. She would not do this. No. 

“That’s unfortunate, it was my favourite part to write.”, Bette heard the woman turn around and silence fell over them. Her loud breath filling the room much more than words ever could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you have as much fun as I have!


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Bette practically ran from the bed, she had dreamed about Joan and the hot air she breathed did not help her body to cool down. She showered, cold this time, and prepared some coffee, leaving enough on the heater, for when Joan woke up. 

The sun was just starting to rise, and now that Bette understood more about the world she knew it wasn’t really a sun, more like the concept of a sun. It didn’t really make sense, but who cared, the sun was rising and sinking, concept or not. 

It promised to be a cold day, the sky ice blue and as soon as she was allowed outside and her watch chimed, she sprinted outside, going for a brisk morning walk. For the first time it was relatively quiet outside, the people on the streets all walking to work, not screaming or laughing too much. Bette breathed in the crisp air, watching the people she passed on her way back. A woman with children smiled tiredly, a grey cat, sniffed at her leg, she bent down and patted the head. A few men winked at her.  
“You don’t want to be cast out.”, she had to remind herself, her body definitely not agreeing with that sentiment. 

Joan sat on a chair, reading some sort of paper, Bette smiled, watching her drink her coffee. 

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t make me coffee too.”, she looked up from her newspaper, smiling faintly. “I really want to thank your for the sentiment, but I can’t drink it.”

Bettes smile fell, had she done something wrong with the coffee, brewed it wrong? She liked it stronger, but Joan had always made her coffee the same.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just I can’t drink it, do you understand?”, Joans smile was quivering now, as if she tried very hard to keep it up. 

Bette did not understand, but she got an idea of what the woman was referring too. 

“Alright!”, she sat opposite from her, lighting a cigarette with a match she found. 

“Nervous about the Meeting?”, Joan folded the crinkling papers, placing them on the wax tablecloth, searching for her own packet of cigarettes, Bette held out one for her, but Joan declined.

She was indeed a bit nervous, she still did not know a lot of people here, but she shook her head. “I don’t get nervous.”, she blew the smoke into the air, a rehearsed move, for when she needed to look confident. 

“Well I am terribly nervous.”, Joan watched her own fingers, the smooth skin, the freckles, not noticing Bette following her eyes, staring. 

“How much time do we have left?”, Bette looked at her watch. 

“30 minutes until I go. I want to be early.”, Joan put the cups away, cleaning them and after drying them putting them back into the cupboard. 

“I’ll join you, if you don’t mind.”, Bette opened the letter with the invite in her watch, now a lot more confident with the usage of the device, reading over the lines again. 

Joan vanished into the bedroom and Bette decided to change into a fitted dress. The email stated formal wear, so she chose something black, her body snatched into place by a girdle. She again watched her body in wonder, what ever had she criticised for years.

The dress was one of the only formal things she had chosen, a tight bust, a flared circle skirt, in true 1950s fashion. She decided against makeup, not wanting to look cheap. 

When Joan opened the double winged doors, Bette could not hold back a gasp. The woman wore a suit, in true Crawford fashion, with almost unreasonably wide shoulders, the waist so small, a man could have closed his hands around her. The woman just put on her white cloves, stroking over the blue fabric, smoothing out non existing wrinkles. 

She looked up, her eyes falling into Bette. They wondered, truly wondered and Bette felt something turning on inside her, the switch for seduction suddenly flipped. She pushed out her hips, walking in her heels over to the slender woman, the woman watching her every step. 

“You.”, her voice was breathless for a short while, then she snapped.

“No makeup?”, she snapped, as if she had been caught in something she did not want Bette to see. Like eating cookies at midnight.

“I don’t have any lipstick.”, Bette blinked innocently. 

Joan got her purse, pulling out a deep red, handing the golden tube over. 

“Use this.”, her eyes dropped down to Bettes lips, “you can keep it.” 

Bette thanked her, turning toward one of the hundreds of mirrors, applying the red cream. She smacked her lips together. 

“Now it’s like we kissed.”, she blurred out loud, cursing herself for her unfiltered mouth. 

Joan blushed, pushing open the door and Bette had to hurry to reach her.   
......  
They both sat next to each other, eagerly awaiting Dean to arrive and get the meeting started. Considerably less people were present now, only around 50, if Bette had to guess, only the actors and actresses. Joan greeted everyone with a smile or a nod and talked to the people around them, Bette tried to keep up with the conversation, but it was much to familiar for a practical stranger to join. 

Finally Dean and a few other men and women got on stage, starting the meeting. Joan leaned back, her hands in her lap, her feet pointed. Bette thought about the book she read, the one she had pushed under her pillow last night in a fever, after reading the full thing, when Joan had fallen asleep. 

“My dear actors and actresses.”, Dean smiled wide into the candle lit room. 

“We have decided on a general idea.”, he triumphed. “I only can say it’s going to be a romantic play, in true fashion of this years motto. 

Bette wrinkled her nose, not knowing what he’s referring to. 

“Have you read the chapter on celebration yet?”, Joan quietly leaned back, asking her. 

“No.”

“Do that later.”

Dean continued:” it’s going to be a beautiful play I’m sure, then audition will be held tomorrow.” A whisper went around. Tomorrow? So early? Even Joan perked up. 

“I know it’s early, but the writers want to see you all perform first, they already have some of you in mind for a lot of roles. I’ll hand out cards for the people who are in consideration for a few roles.” A man went around the room, putting envelopes on the table for a few people, Joan included, who beamed as bright as the sun construction. 

“Tomorrow I’ll see you all here, please prepare this short monologue, I’ll send you all. Now for the important part. I’ll direct this year.” He smiled into the room that began clapping hard and loud. 

“We have Celeste on costume design again this year, as you all know, she’s been doing this for years. And I think she never disappointed. On the contrary.” People stood up clapping for the small woman that smiled shyly into the room 

One after the other the people of the podium were introduced to the room that knew them all by heart, apparently not one change had been made regarding the leading directors of the production, and everyone was happy with that, they left with more new information then Bette could keep, but it had been very productive.

Bette watched Joan closely as she opened the envelope on the way back. She gasped, nearly stumbling, grabbing her chest in deep shook. 

“Are you okay.”, Bette caught her by her elbow, getting her back to an upright position. 

“They want me for the lead.”, Joan trembled. “No one is the lead twice in a row.”, her hands were shaking now. 

Bette helped her to the room they shared, opening the door, as she pushed the slender woman in. Joan held out the card for Bette to read, as she poured herself two drinks, drowning the first one, then sipping on the second, making another one for a Bette. 

The card read: “Joan, we have already decided for you to be this years female lead.”

“Wow.”, Bette took the drink. “This is huge, congrats!” Still slightly tremblingly they bumped glasses. 

“I’m floored.”, The woman ran a hand through her hair, ruffling up the carefully placed curls. 

“You always were a leading lady Joan.”, Bette smiled mildly at a few roles she had passed down to Joan, because she was a “serious actress” and not some leading lady. 

Joan took her drink, flinging it down, then taking the alcohol, filling her glass with it, repeating the action. “Let’s get drunk Bette.”, she laughed, loud, heartfelt. The first real laugh Bette had ever heard from her. 

She stared at the happy woman bewildered, but filled her glass as well. “Okay?”

“I haven’t-“, Joan looked sideways. “Not in the way I used too. But today is a special day.” She took out another bottle, smiling. 

They ended up on the plastic covered couch, laughing hysterically about some story Bette had drunkenly told. It didn’t even have a beginning or an end, it did not matter, they laughed all the same. Joan tried her best to light the fire, but failed to light a match, falling onto the floor, laughing.

“Let me.”, Bette stumbled, sitting down next to her, lighting the paper between the pieced of wood. The flames were hot and high, colouring the women’s faces red and yellow. 

Joans lipstick had smeared, Bette wiped it away with her thumb, suddenly they stopped laughing, just staring at each other for a long time. Blue eyes meeting blue eyes, water meeting ice. The energy shifted, no one dared to look away. 

“I-“, Joans face got closer to Bettes. Bette was reminded of the book, closing her eyes, waiting. Wanting. 

“I should go take a shower.”, Joan pulled away, trying to stand up. Bette opened her eyes, feeling confusion wash over her, but helping the woman stand up, pulling herself of the floor. 

“Maybe we should go to sleep.”, she mumbled, stumbling towards the bedroom. 

Joan joint her in bed, her Pyjama pants on backwards, Bette noticed she had forgotten to close a button on her own nightgown, but she did not care. When they hit the bed at the same time, they both groaned. The east was spinning around them. 

“Bette?”, Joan asked quietly. 

“Yes?”, she tried her best to sound alerted. 

“I’ll punch down the wall now, I can’t sleep it’s to hot.”

Bette watched Joan sit up, throwing the pillows on the floor, the wall had been broken down. 

“Alright.”, the woman lay back, closer than before, facing Bette now. Her breath was stroking Bettes face, smelling of cigarettes and toothpaste. “Gnight?” She mumbled, already drifting of to sleep. Somehow their bodies found each other during the night, Joans leg over her own, Bettes right arm across Joans waist.


	9. Chapter 9

She felt a bit empty when she opened her eyes. Without truly knowing it, she felt the loss of Joans body on hers. Joan had already left the room, in search of an aspirin. It was a shame, that still in the afterlife you could feel pain, Bette was sure if she hadn’t died already she would have this morning. 

A feminin hand made its way into Bettes vision, Joan placed a cup of coffee on the bedside table and rushed out of the door as fast as she had come in. 

Her watch beeped, letting her know the audition was to be held in 30 minutes. 30 minutes and she hadn’t even gotten up to shower yet. Bette groaned. Pushing herself out of the bed, her nightgown hanging form her body, one strap over the shoulder her breasts nearly exposed, he hurried into the bathroom. 

„Not much time.“, she heard Joan saying, standing in front of her mirror, plopping on her jewellery. Bette moved fast and efficiently, little makeup, quick shower, simple dress. She was not getting glammed up for this, it’s was just a simple audition for a simple part. 

They hurried outside the room, both reading over the lines they had been send. It was a simple play, two people meeting each other for the first time and falling in love. 

„It’s just the Test Play.“, Joan had explained. They were going to play a few scenes with different partners, just to get a feeling, what kind of chemistry each actor could deliver. Joan naturally wanted to join, as she had to „test out“, as she called it, the different men. Bette had laughed at that, telling her not to cheat on her, Or else both would be homeless forever. The memorises of last night were foggy for Bette, no matter how much she tried to concentrate on the events, she remembered the red drinks, the green walls, the blue eyes, staring into hers. Not much afterwards. 

They arrived on time, thankfully as Bette hated to be late. Dean ushered them through dark hallways, along a few white doors until they finally reached the stage. The Theater was connected to GUO69, the house they were living in. Big lights were shining down, hitting them with a gentle glow. Bette turned on the huge stage. 

„This Must be as big as a Footballfield!“, she exhaled, the smell of wood and glue in the air. The curtains were closed, the red velvet hanging down and the people gathered around. Bette could count the same 50 people, plus a few men in black shirts, probably helpers. 

Dean smiled. „Good day my friends. We will begin this years production. Today.“ he put his head into his neck, smiling. 

„Can you feel it?“, the vibration of excitement went through Bette. They all nodded, even Joan. 

„We will start with the women.“, Dean went over to the edge of the stage. It took him a few minutes, because it was so big. 

„How will he be able to hear us?“, Bette whispered. 

Joan explained, one hand rubbing over her own arm:“ they have some sort of gadget that elevates your voice, so anyone could hear you. Like a small microphone.“

And then they lifted the curtains. The tons of tons of fabric lifted upwards and no one talked, all looking up with gaping mouths. As far as the eye could see, there were seats, golden and red, light shining through few opened windows, and chandeliers hanging down the sides.  
It was so big, Bette felt dizzy. 

„How many.“, she asked breathlessly.

„No one knows.“, Joans eyes were glimmering with awe, twinkling and reflecting the lights. 

„Alright ladies!“, a voice woke them up out of their dazed state. 

They all began playing a few scenes with each other, first lighthearted skits about vulgar things, then hearty sisterly scenes, Bette always making sure, she was on her marks. Joan had taken her place next to the director and watched her carefully. 

The next scene Dean asked her to play alone, a heartfelt monologue. A deep dark cloud washed over her face, as she, in tears recited the lines. This was her passion, adrenaline kicking her performance even higher. 

When she finished the room was quite for a short while, then applause hit her. She smiled, waved and went to sit next to the others. Proudly, her breasts fell with her breath. 

The men did the same thing, a few good, a few excellent and the women moved over to the low seats in front of the stage. 

When the men finished reading the lines Bette smiled and watched Joan creep up the stairs. She knew the woman was nervous, could tell by the way she walked. 

Dean told her to play a certain scene he had chosen for her. The first man did absolutely nothing. Joan cried, she smiled though her tears and she laughed heartedly, the nerves vanishing in front of the audience, but even the sloppy kiss would not save the performance of that man. 

The next one was worse. Somehow he managed to be as stiff as a board, while all eyes were on Joan. She crew more and more unsatisfied, played the same lines with bigger gestures, bigger tears, but nothing. 

„This is Not working.“, Dean whispered behind Bette. 

Most of the women had already left, bored the lack of sensuality from the men. 

You could practically feel the tension behind Bette, as Dean feverishly thought about what he would do, with a lead but no partner. And then it clicked. 

„Bette.“, he leaned forward, as one of the last men tried to kiss Joan but missed her mouth with full force. „Bette I want you to try.“

Bette turned back. „Try what.“, her eyes wide open. 

„Please Bette please. I need a leading man.“, his eyes grew round, like a puppy. 

„This is madness.“

Joan turned around as the last men hushed from the stairs. 

„Keep em coming.“, she roared, nearly furious. 

„This was the last one Joan.“, Dean exclaimed to an otherwise empty Theater. Only Bette Joan and he were left. 

„I can’t work without a leading man Dean. There’s got to be someone.“, she seemed exhausted. 

„Joan I“, he pushed Bette in the direction of the stage. „I want you to try once again but. Please keep an open mind okay?“

Joan turned, her face towards the other side, waiting for a man. 

Bette gulped, stepping forward, her shoes clicking on the hardwood. 

„Don’t leave me.“, because her hand was on Joans shoulder, she could feel her tense up. Bette had looked at the script a few times, just to get a feeling of what kind of scenes she was supposed to play. 

Joan turned, to face her. „You know I have to.“, her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Bette studied the face she was holding, the beautiful sculpted face. 

„Just stay. Just one more night.“, the skin under her fingers was soft and light, the body trembling with exhaustion. Bette pushend Joan down, sitting with her on the stage wood, holding her face still in her hands. 

„I-m“, Joan tried to deliver her line, but her voice was failing, the blue eyes so exhausted, that they closed. Bette could feel her own heartbeat in her face and body. Could feel Joans quicken as she leaned down and kissed the woman, on her lips. It was soft and warm, not as Bette expected kissing a woman would be like. She didn’t move, her hands pressed into Joans shoulders, keeping her upright. 

When they parted only moments later they were both panting. Joan cling her eyes, leaning against the woman in support. Dean started to clap, slowly then excitedly ran over to them. 

„We’ve got to. Ladies this is it.“ 

„This is madness.“ Bette whispered against Joans skin. 

„I’ll do it.“, Joan got up on her knees, trying to get up. Bette helped find her footing and they got off the stage. Before they knew it, Dean had lead them out and they were alone. 

Bette held open the door for them, as Joan nearly collapsed into the room. 

„Thanks leading man.“, she whispered before curling up on the sofa and sleeping.


	10. Chapter 10

The envelop hit the cold floor in the morning, fluttering shortly then sliding over the tiles. Bette picked it up hours later, turning the Creme white thick paper. 

„This looks rather official.“, she muttered under her breath, going into the kitchen to find a knife. 

„Did the letter come?“, Joan had left her comatose state of exhaustion with fresh pink cheeks and a spring in her step. Having slept on the couch did not hurt her back at all it seemed. 

„Yes.“, Bette handed her the paper with both of their names on it. 

Joan ripped it open, slightly trembling fingers fishing for the content, fumbling with the paper, as read with fleeting eyes. 

„Dear Mrs Crawford, Dear Mrs Davis.“, she nodded as if to say:“ yes that’s us.“

„With this invite you are officially on the guest list for this year’s production introduction. Taking place tonight, you will be able to stay outside your quarters until 3 am.“, she finished. 

„Introduction?“, Bette had grabbed her coffee, sipping, already interested. 

„Yes they will announce the official cast at this event, live. People will be watching.“, her eyes glowing. „It’s really the highlight of the year for a lot of residents!“, she turned around, scrubbing her mug clean.

„Bette do you have a dress?“, she wanted it to sound soft, but it came out harsh under her excitement. 

„I’m wearing one now.“, Bette pushed herself away from the counter. „No I do not.“, she continued. 

„May I.“, Joan turned around, water dripping down her arms, „may I help picking one out?“, her eyebrows moved together in a plead. 

Bette sighed. „I don’t want to be all dolled up. This is not me.“ 

„It’s going to be lovely Bette, trust me.“, Joan had put off her dripping rubber gloves, moving in Bettes direction. „We Need This to be good. This has never been done before. There will be an outrage. Two female leads.“

The blonde seemed to think about it for a short second.  
„Alright.“, She grabbed her by the shoulders. „Well Show them.“

It was pure Madness. The dresses that Joan requested were piling up on a chair and Bette stood in the middle of a room, mirrors all around her. She still was not used to her body, her figure, her face, but she welcomed the range of movement she had acquired. Joan hushed around her, collecting things off shelves, muttering at the workers to get out of HER dressing room. 

„Let’s get the first one on.“, she held up a rose coloured situation, wide neckline, full skirt. Very young. 

Bette fumbled with her simple cotton dress zipper. 

„Let me help you.“, Joan stepped forward, sliding down the zipper with a smooth hand. Bette reacted instantly, her back on fire. Her legs nearly trembling. This was new. 

A bit fearful she pushed the dress down, watching Joan in the mirror, the blue eyes first on her back, her spine, then her legs, roaming around. 

„The dress.“, Bettes voice was pressed, somehow even more slick then usually. 

Joan snapped, handing her the garment. Bette slid into it, her head first, the fabric pooling at her feet. 

„Will you close the back for me?“, she asked, slightly trembling. 

Joans hands on her backside, sliding up slower than down, over the small of her back, then over her spine, she touched her shoulder blades for a quick second. The dress fit perfectly, but Bette did not see it. 

„Is This Good?“, she turned to the side, the looking into the mirror again. 

„Does it feel good?“, Joan muttered, her hand still on Bettes shoulder. 

„Yes.“, Bette breathed. 

They stared at each other for a millisecond, then both snapping out of it. 

„This wont do.“, Joan pushend down the zipper. „It will clash with my dress.“

Bette shivered, the fabric leaving her exposed and cold. Joan looked at her, long and thoughtful. Then she dug deeper in the pile. When she found what she was looking for a smile had snuck it’s way onto her face. 

„Here.“, she held out the garment. „This.“

It was a black dress, deep boxcut neckline, the shoulders free. Bette stepped inside, feeling the soft hands on her back, she turned and looked at herself. It was like...

„All about eve?“, she whispered. 

„You should have won that year.“, Joan stood behind her, Bette could feel the breath on her skin. 

„damn right I should....You sure I should be wearing black?“, Bette ran her fingers over her waist. Oh her waist. 

„I think you’ve never looked better.“, Joan smiled, as she ran a thumb Over the zipper, stopping at the small of Bettes back. 

The door opened and they whisked apart. 

„Everything alright Mrs Crawford?“, the young woman looked around in suspicion. 

„Yes dear.“, Joan placed a seemingly loving hand on the girls arm and guided her out of the room. 

When the door closed with a loud thud she turned, reached behind and stared to undress. First her hat, then the zipper, slowly peeling out of the fabric, she stepped out with two small steps. Bette was watching this, her eyes all over the nearly exposed skin. 

Joan was wearing typical Joan underwear, stockings, a girdle and a matching bra, her skin so tight around her muscles, Bette wondered what the thighs would feel like under her fingers. Joan must have noticed her looking, because the way she moved changed rapidly. 

First she had simply stepped out of her clothes, but now every movement was calculated. Every step followed a swing of the hips, every single muscle moved as she came closer to bette. 

Bette closed her eyes, now overwhelmed by the feelings. She was hot all over her body.

She heard Joan move into her gown. 

„Can you open your eyes and help me get this closed.“, Joan husked, deep. Dangerous. 

Bette tried not to touch her, tried to be quick, but the damn zipper got caught in a thread and she had to remove it again, her fingers gliding over Joans wide shoulders, holding onto them. Joan was warmer now under her fingers and now matter how much she wanted to Bette could not stop running her fingers over the smooth skin. 

They stood there, Joan facing the mirror taxing Bette throug the glass, Bette with her hands on the shoulders. 

They both took a deep breath in. 

„Bette.“, Joan turned around, her voice quiet. Bettes hands dropped onto Joans waist, holding her, still looking away, not meeting the blue eyes. 

„Are you scared?“, she just asked the blonde, grabbing her by the shoulders tenderly. 

„No.“, Bette whispered and it was the truth. She was with Joan And it would work out. That the masses could not do them any harm. That the play was going to be a success. 

„Then kiss me.“, Joan trembled under her, as Bette leaned forward, her lips coming closer to the other woman, finally meeting her and adrenaline rushed through them both. They brushed softly at first, like a test, but with her newfound bravery Bette ran a nervous tongue over Joans lips, begging for more. They moved closer bumping into each other, finally hands on hips on arms, in hair. 

They would have melted into each other if not for the knock on the door, that let them know it was time get home. They both panted like they had Run a mile, leaving the store.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh excitinnng hope you all like it! Tell me what you think!

The scene was set, chandeliers sparkling and trying to win over the glittering crystal glasses, seemingly glowing from inwards, reflecting the candles, the small fairly lights and eyes of the people sitting at the tables. 

The ballroom as it was called was located at the first floor of the house of theatre, or better known as GUO69 to the public. The red wallpaper shining, the floor wooden and the ceiling as high as one could imagine, all of the residents had taken their places, sitting at round tables with white tablecloths, in their beautiful gowns and high heels, smiling and chatting eagerly. 

Bette had regretted dying in the first place, when she had woken up and had cursed her body for giving out under her, so she had to go through this hell. 

„No time for breakfast.“, Joan had not slept all night long ironing her dress out over and over again,matching jewels and hairpins, laying everything out to completion, while Bette had shaken her head an at least tried to sleep. Still the nervous energy of the room had completely vanished any affection they both had felt for one another and Bette was sure the kiss just might have been an accident, that she wanted to forget rather fast. 

When it was time to get dressed, way to early for Bettes liking, Joan helped her get ready. Her hands, that had so vigorously scrubbed the floor of the bathroom all day long until they were red, then nourished with thick cold cream again, turned soft, as she helped Bette into her dress. 

Bettes breath nearly hitched and the unfamiliar feeling of heat returned to her body, reminding her that in fact the kiss had not been an accident. The hands now went over her bare back, brushing softly as a cold necklace was closed around her neck, they gently smoothed out the fabric around her waist, lingering not to long, but enough to be noticed. 

When they were both ready they stood in front of the mirror. 

„You look beautiful.“, Joan had whispered. 

„You too.“, Bette could not meet her eyes worried she might blush. 

They had entered the room at the same time, Joan with her hand tucked under Bettes arm, everyone staring, as they floated around the room, to their seats in the front. The other women at the table, some Bette recognised at Joans friends, threw jealous looks down Joans body.

Fake air kisses were exchanged as they got to the table. Bette tried not to flinch, as hands touched her, hugged her and people ensured, they were perfectly happy to see her. She tried to sit down as gracefully as Joan, still a bit overwhelmed by the chatter. 

Joan began chatting with her partner of the left, casually lifting her hand and placing it on Bettes chair, Bette relaxing into the small contact between arm and back. The girl on her right asked her if she was happy to be here. 

“Yes, I am.”, she answered automatically, right now, she wasn’t so sure. 

“So Bett.”, a man across from her leaned forwards. He pronounced it the English way. Bett. Without the e. 

Joan turned, looking at him with icy blue eyes. “It’s Bette. Bett-e, Hank. It’s not that hard to grasp.” She looked at Bette, still her protective hand still on her chair.   
“He used to call me Jo-Anne.”, she whispered, when he returned to his partner, a grey looking woman with droopy eyes. 

“That’s even worse than Joan. I wonder what your mother thought when she called you that.”, Bette muttered back, forgetting it was not Joans birthname. It was common knowledge, that she had changed her name, but it had been so long, that the world had pretty much forgotten. 

“I’m christened on Lucille.”, Joan turned away a bit, the memories tied to the name still hurting, her face chilling. 

“French?”, Bette placed a careful hand on Joans knee, trying to show, that she understood, that the name was dead to her. 

“French-Canadian.”, The Woman’s leg twitched under her hand, then stilled. Relaxed. 

“Aboot.”

Joan laughed, finally, a loud, strong laugh. Her face, usually so composed, lighting up with glee, people stopped talking and stared at them, but Bette began to snicker as well. The whole situation was absurd. 

They nearly collapsed, when finally Dead got onto the stage. The room quieted down, all eyes on the man, standing in front of the microphone. 

“Ladies and Gentleman in the room. Dear viewers at home.”, he took at deep breath in. 

The Cameras had been placed at pretty much every table, recording every reaction and they had turned on when Dean had entered, Bette and Joan had both perked up, wiping the laugh of their faces. 

“I welcome you all to this years production.”, a warm hand was given. 

“This year we Are going to do things a little differently. It is.” He paused. 

“Our responsibility to show things in the theatre that are controversial, that are up for discussion. The theatre is there to educate, to show different sides of a story, to be able to transform your views.” 

People were nodding along, Bette felt sick. She was going to die. Even if she was already dead. 

“Tonight we are here, to announce the cast for this years production, as well as the title.” Bette felt a hand on her thigh under the table. The hand pressed her leg, then stilled mid thigh. The fire turned back on. Her body wanted nothing more than to shift forwards, the fingers to slide upwards. 

Dean started to call up names. Names over names, for different departments. When you think about it, there are a lot of people working on a stage production, and every single one got a raging applause. The lightning department, the stage designers, the promoters, everyone was asked up to the stage, a few people saying a small amount of words, everyone smiling. 

They had a few breaks, for advertising, and drinks were placed in front of the ladies, all of them thirsty, drowning the drinks quickly. 

“Careful.” Joans Hand still rested on her thigh, gripping it a bit tighter now. 

Bette placed her Chrystal glass down. Joan was right, she could not be drunk here. 

“Later.”, Joan smiled, talking under her breath, the hand on her thigh dragging up the silky dress for an inch, to Bette it felt more like a mile. Her body lighting up under her. 

The break was over, the last one, now it was time to announce the cast. 

“This year is going to be extra special.”, the man flashed his white teeth towards the cameras and Bette could feel the tension in the room. 

He called up the small parts, not naming the characters names, but saying:” As a small part in the first act” or “an important role toward the end.”, so that people at home would know what to expect. 

There were about 50 people, that would be playing on stage. A lot of them in small parts, Bette noticed. Great a leading cast focused play. 

The people who were called onto the stage, framed the stage now, all of them up there, smiling with happy smiles, while Bette and Joan were still sitting down there. It was almost like the oscars, Bette noticed, only she knew she would be winning. Or loosing, when you really looked at this. 

Joan now nearly clawed into her leg, clearly nervous, Bette began stroking her hand with her fingers, drawing small circles on the soft skin. 

“Now for the part we all have waited for.”, Dean spoke, the world tunnelling around Bette and Joan. 

“This years leading Lady.”, he smiled into the room. Joan got ready to stand up. 

“Is Someone you all know from last year. Congratulations Joan Crawford.” 

Joan Got up, as the room exploded around them, the cheers as loud as a starting plane, nearly hurting Bettes ears. She floated towards the stage, holding onto Deans outstretched hand. 

“It’s an honour, really.”, she chimed into the microphone. “I hope you all enjoy this year as much as we will be.” 

Then she took her place in the middle of the stage, Bette felt weak. 

Dean took the microphone again, nodding at her in reassurance, across the room. 

“This year is about change, about challenging the norm and asking our selves: what is important. And this is why our task was incredibly difficult to find a leading man for our dear Joan.” He smiled, nervously.   
“That’s why we chose someone who’s up for a challenge, someone you all have never seen on stage here, someone very well known to the public.” You could now cut the tension with a butter knife, Bette felt as if she would throw up. 

“I would like a hand for our leading man.”, he paused again. “Bette Davis.” 

She got up, her knees not as weak as she expected and the noises of wonder filled the ballroom. She made it up the stares as applause trickled in, still confused and she smiled at Dean as he whispered:” your doing great.” 

She took the microphone, looking into the room, the bewildered eyes of people looking back. 

“Change.”, her voice was stern, “can only happen if you let it. Have an open mind. You will enjoy this brilliant play.” 

She stepped back, next to Joan, who caught her just as her knees were giving out under her and held her up by the waist, as the curtains closed to roaring applause.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if this need a TW but: slight homophobic content! Hope you enjoy and tell me what you think!

The program endend, they stumbled of the stage, even the other actors calling out for Dean, asking Joan and Bette how this was possible and what they were thinking about this and if they had known. 

Joan clung to Bettes arm, holding her upright and they made their way into the red room, a bar for after the show had ended and where the party was heading. 

As they entered, Dean greeting them with open arms, the other actors stormed in as well. 

“Dean what the hell.”, so one shouted and he tried to calm them down. 

“What seems to be the problem?”, he asked loudly over the noise. 

“Two women? In a romantic play?”, people stood around in a circle, Joan and Bette tried their best to get to the bar. They plopped down, as Dean explained:” this is going to go great, friends, this will challenge our perception for love! It’s not unheard off.”

Someone muttered:” well they HAVE been paired up together.” And others started to chime in. 

“In real life it’s a platonic pairing I’m sure.”, Dean reassured the crowd, glancing at Bette who wasn’t quite sure he was right about that. “But they will play lovers in the play. There is a big difference between acting and true feelings as you all know very well.” 

“I know I feel In love with half of my leading men.”, Bette muttered to Joan over her martini, who nodded along, her red curls shaking.

The crowd stilled as Joan got up and started to talk, not raising her voice in the slightest. 

“Bette and I have decided to do this play to go against the social norm to try and challenge this worlds view we are living in. 

She held her hand up, as if to shield herself from the people  
“We are doing it as friends, for we have been paired as soulmates and we both think that, as platonic friends, we are able to portray something that for many people was a reality on earth.”

Joan took a big breath. “If you have a problem with that, you may just leave the production right now, because I will not tolerate any more fuss about this.”, she stopped, turned around and sat back down. 

The mob quieted down, a few people coming over to them speaking out their congratulations and ultimately no one left the room. 

Bette took another deep breath, the air calming her mind a bit. 

“Another.”, Joan called out, already on her third drink. 

“Keep em coming.”, Bette slapped her glass down as well. 

They both drowned a few more, then, way to early left the room. 

“I knew it was going to be hard, but this hard?”, Joan bend down to fix her shoe, holding onto Bettes hand. 

“A lot of these women have had relationships with other women.”, Joan pointed at the door angrily. “And they won’t talk about it because they are what.”, she was raging now, “they are scared.” 

They walked down the hall, Bette holding Joans hand, keeping them high upright, not talking, just listening to Joans rant. 

Suddenly Joan turned. 

“What time is it?”, Bette looked at her watch. 

“10:30.”, the watch told her. 

“Let’s get out of here. We have until 3.”, Joan pulled at Bettes hand and they caught the elevator just in time. Riding down, Bette felt Joans hand on her waist, as she clung to her. 

She felt the hand digging into her side, felt the nails, theses teasing red painted nails on her dress, her beautiful dress and suddenly her mind felt free, light and without the dark cloud on top. 

She lifted her arm and held Joan tightly, as they stepped into the cold night air. It was her first night she had ever seen outside, the people still busy with work and their lives. 

She had read, that people who preferred the night time and were placed into the nightlife, that’s why she had never seen Tallulah, who also stayed at the theatre complex. It was essentially a whole world, running next to theirs, but on different schedules. They very rarely came in contact, so the other half of the population was pretty much forgotten. They had their own clubs, their own rules, their own theatre production. 

The night hit her with clarity, as they walked down the street towards the river, that was now lit up by so many lights. People shot them looks, for their clothing probably, or because they looked “day time ish”, but no one truly cared. 

“I hate the night.”, Joans hand on her waists was now hard. 

“Me too.”, Bette had never liked the darkness, but somehow she felt save here, with Joan. 

The water smelled of sea and fish, the lights red and yellow and white, and they hit Joan straight in the face. Not many people walked along the wide river, as they strolled down the pavement, both quiet, both lost in thoughts. 

When they sat down on a rock near the moving masses of water, Joan looked at her, long and deep. 

“I’ve done it.”, she whispered. 

“Done what?”, Bette asked. 

“I’ve had relationships with women.”, shame was in her voice, somehow deeply rooted. Bette watched the freckled face in the moonlight. 

“Sexual?”, she asked, already knowing the answer, it was splattered all over Joans face. 

They didn’t talk for a long while, a ship passing them both by, they watched as the colossal pieces of metal swam in with patience down the water. A single lost duck followed the ship. 

Bette did not look at her. “How?”, she asked not daring to finish the sentence. 

Even without looking she knew, Joan was blushing in the dark. 

“It’s not that different.”, Joan whispered. 

“Different from what. A man? I can’t imagine that.”, Bettes voice was husky, almost slick, it’s hard for her to breath now. 

Joan didn’t answer for a long time, just breathing, as Bette began, still without looking her, to paint circles on Joans hand with her own fingers. 

“From with yourself.”, she finally murmured, shifting a bit closer, her body heat overpowering the cold night air. 

Bette took the hand into her own two, now running the finger over the knuckles, over the freckles and wrist, hearing the small hitches of breath, when she passed certain spots. 

“And what else do you do.”, she continued, something in her now burning between her legs. 

Joan did not answer, instead she just turned, her mouth on Bettes neck, kissing at first but then suddenly biting down slightly, then sucking on her pulse spot and Bette had to give it her all, not to cry out. 

Joan licked upwards, to Bettes ear. “It’s not that different.”, she whispered, her lips brushing against the skin. “Than what you already read.”, Bette shivered, the skin now cold under the moisture that Joan left. 

“I’m not sure if I can portrait this on stage.”, Bette pressed out, trying to regain control over her breathing. “I’m not a lesbian.”

Joan laughed, deep and hearty, dragging her hand over Bettes knee, pushing up the fabric of the dress, past her knee and her thighs, and Bette already parted her legs, shivering in the cold night and they both knew it had been a lie. 

“Let’s get back.”, Joan smiled against Bettes skin, toying with the top of Bettes stockings, feeling the other woman trembling on the rock near the river.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup this is kind of wholesome content uwu
> 
> Hope you like it! Tell me what you think!

When they opened the door Bette had made up her mind. 

“We shouldn’t.”, she whispered against Joans red lips, that were sliding down her own mouth, swollen, wet and full of promises. 

The lips left, leaving coldness behind. Bette shivered, pressed against the door panting. 

“Joan. We shouldn’t.”, she repeated, looking down. Joans eyes were filled with lust, with what she wanted to do now. 

“Your Right.”, they both leaned against the door, breathing for the minute. 

They were quiet again, both regulating their breaths, looking at each other, nodding and then both heading towards the inner apartment, Joan vanishing into the bathroom, Bette looking for her nightgown. 

A noise startled her, while she searched for her clothes. A small noise, apart from the shower going. Joan. Moaning. 

The coldness that had settled into Bettes body vanished quickly, replaced with a deep hotness, creeping up her neck and cheeks. She took a few steps in direction of the bathroom. Yes. Moaning, she had not misheard.

The shower was rushing, Bette leaned against the door, knowing she should not be doing this, not be invading Joans privacy. She should be going outside, but it was too much to ask for, after what happened all night. 

The alcohol clouded her judgment and so Bette slid down the door, quietly, her ear pressed against the door as she listened to the woman inside. Her own fingers crept down her body, but she caught herself, closing her hand to a fist, holding them tight. 

Joan grew louder now, probably thinking Bette was in the bedroom, and Bette groaned. This was torture. She fought against it, against her nature, her body and it was hard. It would be so much easier to just give in, burst into the room and just take the woman in the shower. 

The water stopped abruptly, Bette recognising it, getting up to her feet and rushing towards the bedroom, flinging herself onto the bed.

Moments later Joan came in, wrapped in a tower, skin glowing from inside out. 

“Have you seen my-“, she stopped, holding up her nightgown, smiling. “Never mind. Found it.”, she left, Bette turning red, hiding under the covers. She was glad the wall had been built up again, because this was going to be pure torture. 

Joan slid underneath the covers, turning off the lamp and the bed dipped under her weight for a quick second. Then it stilled. 

“Why would you not sleep with me, Bette.”, Joan murmured, ignoring the fact Bette had been pretending to sleep. 

Bette turned towards the wall of pillows. 

“It wouldn’t be right. We are supposed to be friends.”, she pressed, voice strained. 

“I see.”, Joan sat up, throwing the pillows of the bed. “I can’t sleep with these here.” 

Bette turned away from her. The body next to her moved closer, then two arms wrapped around her. A warm nose pressed into her hair. 

“I would have done it.”, Joan whispered, smiled and then closed her eyes. Bette lay still, not moving for a long time. The woman’s breath behind her deepened, she had fallen asleep. Bette tried as well, really tried to sleep now, but the soft hands fell down from her arms onto her waist, fingers stroking her lightly in her sleep. The whole night she lay awake, listening to the other woman’s breath, not daring to move and disturb her. 

The sun started to shine into the room, landing on their backs, warming the bed and the curtains. A bird chimed outside as if it was the best day of the year, Bette was sure this was the worst one yet. Not only was she unbelievably aggravated, there was also nothing she could do about it. 

Her body yet again was betraying her. 

Joan stirred, waking up slowly, falling back onto her back, her hand covering her eyes from the sun. 

“How late is it?”, she whispered. 

“Half past nine.” Bette whispered back?

“What?”, Joan sat up, her nightgown had shifted, nearly exposing her. 

“We have to be at practice in twenty minutes.”, she practically ran outside, grabbing clothes on her way to the bathroom.

“Practice? They haven’t even finished the play yet? How can we practice?”, Bette got up as well, knowing even before Joan answered, that she’d be doing whatever practices they’d come up with in 20 minutes. 

“Well this is going to be a team building experience!”, Joan shouted form the bathroom, coming out in a play suit, white with cut outs on her ribs. 

“It’s going to be sportive.”, she smiled, pulling her a small cap down. “Outside.”

Bette groaned inwardly. “Sport.” She murmured, pulling out a pair of pants and a Poloshirt. This was going to be torture. She hated pants. 

They headed across the street towards a big field, other actors already waiting for them, Dean standing on a tree log. 

“Ah there they are!”, he exclaimed. 

“Hi Dean!”, Joan shot him a beaming smile, her white teeth reflecting the sunlight. 

“are we all ready?”, he shouted and the group laughed in glee. Bette stood there, not knowing what was going on. 

“First things first!”, Dean got out a list. “Here are your partners. Bette, Joan of course!”, he proceeded to name people together, possibly the ones with the most scenes together. 

“Let’s begin with a long hug.”, he smiled lovingly, when he finished. They all had collected into a big circle, Dean in the middle. 

People turned towards their Partner, hugging them with strong arms. Joan turned towards Bette, slowly grabbing her by the waist. “I know you hate hugs.”, she husked. Bette already felt warm, as Joan brought her closer and wrapped her arms around the blonde. She smelled like wine and toast, Bette found. Her hair somewhat floral. She muffled a sound of distress, as Joan held her close, raising her arms finally and hugging the woman back. 

It felt like hours, when Dean finally spoke, all of them were smiling. “Hugs do wonders”, Dean told them. Bette felt weak on her knees. 

The instructor passed around a roll of duck tape. Everyone seemed to know what they were suppose to do with it, already bending down and joining their legs. 

“This is my favourite part,” Joan excitedly exclaimed, fumbling with the Tape as she pulled her sock up, so that she would not tape her leg to Bettes pants. 

“I don’t want to do this.”, Bette wanted to step back. 

“Don’t be silly, this is fun and we are going to win.”, Joans eyes glimmered. 

“I don’t want to win at whatever this is.”, Bette crossed her arms. This was ridiculous. She was not a child at some strange birthday party. 

“Bette listen to me.”, Joan murmured. “This is important. I won’t have you ruin my win.”, her face was stern, cold and determined. Bette knew, they had to win. 

The pairs stood in a straight line. Some giggling, some laughing, as Dean stood before them. 

“Okay People. You all know the rules. No biting, no shoving, no shortcuts, I’m looking at you Joan.”, he winked at Joan. 

“Doesn’t matter.”, she muttered, as Bette looked at her in wonder. 

Dean continued, they would run, or hobble, across a line, then around a tree far in the distance and back. Around 600 feet, not that far. 

Bette looked at Joan, a cat like look at snug on her face, as she hocked her eyes on the tree. And suddenly they were running, first a bit uncomfortable, but they found a rhythm, and they began running faster and faster. Bette could feel her blood rushing into her head, left and right people were falling down, laughing or just walking , but Bette and Joan turned around the tree and sprinted back. 

Bette looked to her right, another pair had set their eyes on the win. She pushed herself. If Joan wanted to win, they would be winning. Both sweating they gave it their all, suddenly stumbling over the line, first place. 

Joan screamed. “First.”, then sank down to the floor. “Suck it.”, she screamed between laboured breaths. Bette had been pulled down with her, just breathing. Then laughing. 

“We made it.”, she smiled. 

“We did.”, they looked at each other, Joan cheered again, then kissed Bette on her cheek. “Thank you.” 

If she wasn’t red then, Bette was sure now she looked like a tomato. The others walked over the line, smiling at Joans cheerful mood. 

They removed the tape with a knife, carefully, then Bette plopped down. Someone brought her some water. 

“Don’t Tell her, but We let her win, every year.”, the man said. 

“Shut it, you would never have won.”, Bette shot back, grabbing the water and returning to Joans side. 

They continued with the activities, walking over logs, running around and twirling, it was a children’s dream. And Bette found, she had fun doing it.she laughed with the others, she fell down, she rolled into the grass. This was carefree, this was all she needed, even if she would not admit it out loud. 

Joan bumped into her, more often then she needed to, always a hand on her arms or legs. 

Finally the sun started to set and they began playing a game involving a ball and two teams. Bette had seen the determination in Joans eyes and decided she would do what it takes to win for her. She threw balls harder than she would ever have, she passed to Joan and took another one out for her. 

She walked backwards, focusing on the ball, then crashing into something soft, falling down towards the ground, landing in between milky thighs. Joan giggled, as Bette tried to turn around, but Joan trapped her between her legs, forcing her to turn around. She hovered over the woman, breathing deeply, the face full with sun and delight, the fire between her legs turning back on.

“Thank you Bette.”, Joan said, releasing her and sitting up. 

“Get a room.”, someone shouted. 

“We have one.”, Joan screamed back, hitting the last man standing with the ball. They had won. 

Bette felt like a winner, right there and then.  
...........

“Did you see his face?”, Joan snickered, opening the door and letting them in. “It was hilarious.”

Bette had not seen his face, she had been focused on Joan, but she would have never admitted that. 

“You looked beautiful in the grass, with the flowers.”, Joan murmured, just as they both fell into a well deserved sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muhahaha This is for you Clara!

„Get up.“, someone was shaking Bettes shoulders. 

She stirred, somewhat angry at the distraction from her sleep. 

„Bette get UP.“, Joan shook her again. 

„What is it.“, Bette flung her arms over her eyes, this was much too early to be woken in the hasten state. 

„We got the script.“, Joan excitedly held up a stack of papers, running towards the kitchen table, taking Bettes blanket with her, so the woman would get up. 

She could hear the pages flipping, could hear Joan exhaling and reading, while she got dressed. Bette hoped the script would be okay. At least okay. 

When she put her cup down, Joan looked at her with wide eyes. 

„What is it?“, Bette grabbed her own copy. 

„Look at Page 67.“, Joan put her hands over her eyes, groaning. 

Bette flipped the paper, this did not sound good. 

„Is it that Bad?“, she looked concerned, moving her eyes over the pages. 

„Luise is your part.“, Joan moved closer to her, watching Bettes eyes flying over the pages. 

It was a sex scene. Of course it was. They would be placed on a bed, Joans character was supposed to come over her, she was suppose to move between her legs under the cover. Something in Bette clenched at the thought. 

„Is there someone we can talk to?“, she put the paper down, well aware her face was flaming. 

„Not that i know off.“, Joan went into the kitchen, coming back with her breakfast, hard boiled eggs, bacon, beans. Protein was the only form of appropriate food in the morning. 

„I fought over scenes before, who wrote this.“, Bette tried to keep herself together. 

„Why are you so angry?“, Joan took a knife to the neck of one of the eggs, beheading it. 

„I don’t want to make a fool out of myself, Joan.“, bette angrily replied. 

„Because we will have sex on stage?“, Joan shook her head. „It makes sense, story wise. They fall in love. They have sex. It’s natural isn’t it?“

„It will be vulgar.“, Bette opened the script again. Their watches chimed at the same time. „What else would it be.“

„Guess we’ll see how vulgar it’ll be.“, Joan chuckled. They would practice the scene today. Bette banged her head on the table. 

Hours later she stood there, between the director, visibly shaken with anger, Joan held her hand tightly, not gently, to remind her to stay calm. The stage was filled with light that reflected in the tears of anger that shined in Bettes eyes. 

She had screamed, she had spoken very blunt, she had been cold and heated, but dean had denied taking the scene out. It wasn’t even the only scene. They would have a lot of kissing on stage, a lot of things Bette had not thought about in 20 years and she felt beyond uncomfortable. 

Dean had denied her any changes and send her into a fit. 

„Look. Bette.“, he said calmly. „This is staying as it is. If your uncomfortable with this, well practice this first alone. No other people. No one is sharing this scene with you two. She had nodded and Dean had send the others to a smaller room to practice. 

„Ladies. I wanted to start this season with this scene. Because it’s so important for the play, that you two have this one down.“ , he smiled at them, standing there side to side. 

„Your chemistry will be carrying this play.“, he added, directing a few workers, holding up a bed, towards the middle of the huge stage. 

Joan had placed a hand on Bettes shoulder. „Lets Do this.“ she smiled softly and Bette relaxed a bit more, the anger leaving her body. Nerves talking over the strong emotions. 

They grabbed their things, putting everything to the side and walked towards the bed. 

Dead had darkened the stage a bit and sat on the bed. He looked at them for a long time. 

„Ladies. This is important.“, he smiled. „Bette you will start out here.“, he marked a place on the floor with chalk. „Joan you’ll be standing over there.“ another mark.   
„Joan will move towards you Bette, you’ll back up against the bed and then Joan will push you onto it, is that alright?“, both nodded. 

„I feel like we should just try our best with the lines at first.“, Dean moved away. 

Bette and Joan flung away the script in the same moment. Both knew the lines already. 

„And that’s why I love working with pros.“, Dean chuckled. „So Bette. Louise is pretending she doesn’t want Rose, but secretly she does.“, Dean explained unnecessarily. Bette nodded. 

„Joan. Rose really wants this. Okay.“, he clapped his hands together. „Why don’t we do a first run, to get a bit loose. No pressure here.“

Bette and Joan took their places. Suddenly there was a shift in energy. Dean vanished. 

„Luise?“, Joan stepped forward. Bette backed up.

„I— Rose. What is this?“, her knees hit the cold bed. 

„Luise, I want you.“, Joan looked at her and there, suddenly was this fire. This twinkle and Bettes legs gave out underneath her, before Joan even pushed against her chest. Bettes back hit the bed. 

Dean laughed. „And I was scared that This wouldn’t work. Beautiful ladies. This is it. Fist try and you already have it.“, his cheeks were red with excitement. 

Bette Sat up, Joan taking place next to her.

„Let’s Do it again.“, Joan leaned back. „I didn’t hit my mark.“ Dean darkened the stage, only one spot light hitting the bed. 

„Do you want to go through the whole scene at once?“, Dean asked. „Or just do it in small segments.“

Bette frowned. „I need the flow.“

„Whole thing it is.“ Dean stepped back again. „I’ll just let you two find something here. We need a bit of freedom for this part.“

„I wish I had freedom in deciding if I wanted to do this.“, Bette muttered, making Joan laugh out loud. 

They got to their marks again and again one could practically see the air change. The tension growing. 

„Luise.“, Joan changed her tone, now not asking, but demanding Bette. She turned, backing up to the bed, again the coldness against her hot knees. 

Bette locked eyes with Joan, the flame in her body now bright and hot. „Rose.“, she licked her own lips, her eye flickering down towards Joans lips. „I—I need you.“

Joan stepped closer, her breath now mixing with Bettes. She moved even closer, nearly kissing the woman in front of her and Bettes leg started to shake. Joan didn’t have to push hard, Bette fell onto the bed and lifted her legs, scooting towards the middle of the gigantic bed. Joan pulled off her shirt. Something not in the script, flinging it around the stage. 

Her chest was clad in a beautiful bra, lace didn’t cover up much. Bettes breath quickened, as Joan was moving along the script now, pulling the thin sheets over them both, knowing that the light would show her shadow on the thin white cotton. She leaned forward, kissing Bettes neck, sucking on the skin. 

Bette lost her mind, her breath hitching under the kiss, this was not acting. This was a genuine reaction towards Joans lips moving down lower and lower. Nipping at Bettes clothes breasts, sliding her hands down her legs. 

And then Joan moved the same way, moved down and down and down, laying between the legs, her head over Bettes pelvis. Bette was nearly moaning now, so aroused that she was sure Joan would be able to smell her, she tired to close her legs, but Joan grabbed her thighs, nails digging into the flesh. 

The light turned on again. 

„Wow.“, Dean said. 

Joan Whisked the blanket away. 

„Could you see my head? Was This Good Placement?“, she sits up, her face a bit tinted with redness. 

Bette lay there on her back, just breathing. 

„It was good, but not convincing enough.“, Dean smiled, as if he knew what kind of torture he put onto Bette. „After going down You’ll need to do something here for about 20 seconds, there will be a musical cue. Then Luise will have an orgasm.“ Bette twitched under the words. „You will just have to move your Head, Joan.“

„I’ll show you the music.“, he pressed a little button on a control and music filled the stage. The Orchestra playing a very soothing trickle of music that started to pick jo pace and intensity, moving along like sexual tension, releasing into a scatter of strings. 

„Did you get your cue?“, Dean asked. Both women nodded. „Are you feeling comfortable with this?“ nodding. 

„Let’s try this again.“ Joan pulled the blanket over them again. 

„Is This okay?“, she whispered. Bette gave a small nod. The lights vanished. Only the spot light shining on them from behind the bed, creating shadows. 

„Say stop.“, Joan shouted towards Dean, then slid downwards. She fell between Bettes legs, already parted. Her head moving down and down and down. 

Bette could feel her breath on her thighs. She could feel it gracing over her privates. And she whimpered. 

„Stop.“, The sheet was removed. „This was good. But there was not passion. Joan we need to feel that you two need this right now more than anything in life.“, Dean took a Note on his notepad. „Try again.“

Joan rolled her eyes. Pulling the sheets over her head again, sliding down with more sensuality. They did it again and again and again. Something wasn’t right for Dean everytime. „Not enough emotions. Doesn’t look real. This isn’t what sex looks like“

Joan grew more and more frustrated. „I’ll show him.“ she whispered just before she slid down. 

Joan held her head still and the music started one more time. Then she leaned in. Her mouth closed around Bette and the blonde moaned out loud, her head thrown back, as Joan began licking and sucking her over her underwear. The music swell up and Joan moved her hands, so she could have better access, Bettes legs falling open under the sheets. She was so ready, so wet, so unbelievably close.

Joans tongue now slid through her folds, slick, fast and Bette came, Just as the music hit her cue. Her back lifted from the bed, her thighs clenching, her body trembling violently, as she made a noise that could only be described as a scream. 

When Joan wiped her mouth on the sheets,it was quiet for a minute. Bette was breathing heavily. 

„Perfect. That was perfect.“, Dean shouted over from his chair. „Like the real thing! I knew you two could do it!“. They emerged from the sheets. Bette panting heavily. Joan grabbing her hand, holding her tight. 

„That’s it for today ladies! Thank you so much!“, Dean smiled as they left the stage.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just something short but ✊🏻👁👄👁

Joans hand still held her tight. Bette suddenly snapped, trying to get free, looking in shock at the other woman, turning and running. 

Bette ran and ran and ran. Her legs were breaking under her, she was stumbling and nearly falling a few times, her heart beating faster than it probably should, and she ran. 

The street vanished in front of her eyes, her body felt like throwing up as she brushed past people, dogs and street lamps. This was wrong. She would throw up. Her lungs burned in the cold air of this afternoon, her feet hurt, but she didn’t stop.

“Bette.”, Joan screamed behind her. She didn’t turn, did not look. How could she have done this to her. 

Her legs buckled again, a small stone making her trip, the slender body falling exhausted to the ground, crying now. Bette lay there, people passing by her, not caring about the woman that had fallen down. 

Joan knelt beside her, trying to get her to sit up. 

“Don’t Touch me.”, Bette screamed. The hands on her body were too much. She sat up, tried to start to run again. She had liked it. Bette had liked it. It had been a woman. It had been JOAN. She had liked something so wrong. “DISGUSTING. DISGUSTING. DISGUSTING.”, she screamed in her head.

“Stop. Running.”, Joan shouted back, heaving in air. 

“DONT TOUCH ME YOU MONSTER.”, Bette cried now, harder than before. Guilt washed over her, in a dark green wave, tinting her vision, weighing her body down. She felt like she was drowning in this feeling off having done something wrong.  
A woman. 

Joans eyes filled with tears, she fell against a wall, shaking. They stood there, quietly crying for hours, weeks, minutes. Bette lost all sense of time. 

“I’m sorry.”, Joan whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry Bette.”, tears running down her face, uncharacteristically smearing her makeup.

“I’m sorry. I don’t.”, she wiped her tears away, but new ones covered her cheeks. “I thought you liked it.”,Joan crumbled, sinking to her knees. “I never would have done it, if you didn’t like it.”,she pressed out, sobbing.

Bettes tears were quiet, rolling down her face, her chin, her breath forming in the cold air. She took at shaking breath. Her ears were ringing, loud and heavy, as if she had been hit with something. She had liked it. It had been good and that was the worse part of it. 

She had never felt that way with someone and Bettes heart got crushed by the immense pain that the guilt created, turning to the side, she tried not to look at Joans distorted face. 

“I liked it.”, she whispered. It was so quiet, no one would be able to hear it, the city to loud, the cars and people and laughter and chatter covering her confession up, like a painter would cover a bad painting with a linen cloth. 

Joan had buried her face in her hands, whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, over and over and over again. Bette bend down, regaining her voice slightly.

“Joan.”, she touched the woman’s hair. The body flinched, but looked up at her. And they sat there, in the dirt, on the pavement and Joan just had to look at her, to know everything, their eyes met and Joan knew everything.

Just one look told her about the guilt and the shame and the heavy feeling Bette felt right now, but also about the way she had liked it. Maybe even too much. 

“I liked it.”, Bette whispered again, her voice cracking, under new tears of embarrassment and shame. “I liked it.”

Joan took an unsteady breath, her hands first clasping each other, then Bettes hands, then her face. 

“You liked it.”, their foreheads bumped, Joan let out a shaky laugh. “Then why did you run.”, small stones cut into their legs, but they didn’t feel anything. 

“I’m scared Joan.”, Bette looked down, trying to sound braver than she was. She was scared to death. This was nothing she ever experienced. This was a new feeling for someone, a new person, a new situation, this was against the norm, against everyone. 

“I’m scared too.”, Joan whispered back.

“I’m sorry.”, Bette tried with a smile, failed miserably and touched Joans hand on her cheeks. 

“It’s going to be okay.”

Joan suddenly looked around, people stared at them, not used to the sight of two earth movie stars hugging and crying on the pavement, someone whispered something about them being in a partnership. 

“It’s for the play.”, Joan pushend herself up, dragging Bette from the floor with her. A big ah went through the collected audience, they took of their hats and applauded. 

“What a convincing performance.”, someone shouted happily and they held each other up, as they crossed the street and got back home, stumbling to the big building. 

The elevator chimed, and they stepped out, still clinging to each other. The cold air had chilled them to the bone and Bette had not even noticed until they reached the door and her hands were too stiff to open the lock, so Joan had to try it. 

The room was, just as they’ve left it. Joan sat down on her plastic clad sofa. Bette sitting next to her. 

“You liked it.”, Joan repeated, staring into nothingness. “You don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”, Bette softly answered. 

“You don’t hate me.”, it seemed hard for the redhead to grasp it. 

“I’m scared Joan. I’m sorry I ran away.”, Bette took Joans cold hand into hers, holding it until it got warm. 

“I’m sorry I did it without telling you beforehand.”. Joan still didn’t look at her. 

“Joan.”, Bette turned, taking the pale face into her hands. “I wanted you to do it.”, she tried to find her eyes, tried to show the other woman how much she meant this. 

They shifted, lying down, Bette holding Joan, Joan clinging to Bette, as if they were drowning in feelings and emotions. 

They must have fallen asleep, because when Bette woke up, it was dark outside. She tapped Joan, waking her and guiding her towards the dark bedroom, helping her find her nightgown, crawling under the sheets and both immediately trying to find the warmth of the other woman’s body. 

The next day they were glued together. From the minute they woke up until hours later, their bodies never stopped touching, they stayed in bed, just holding each other, feeling the heartbeat of the other person, trying to convince each other, that this was real. 

They both knew what this meant, that they’d never have a platonic relationship from now on and that they’d be in danger of getting outcasted now, especially with the play coming up. When it was time for rehearsal, they parted. 

Bette felt empty without Joans body pressed against her, even if she stood right next to her. This was bigger than anything she ever felt before. 

Dean looked at them with a gleam in his eyes, when they entered the big stage, by a side door. 

“Ladies, today will be a great day for out practicing.”, he talked, arms wide, greeting them. 

“Well do a lot of small scenes today.”, he smiled widely.

Bette took position. People were here now, other actors were on stage, Simulating a big city, as she was supposed to see Joans character for the first time. Bette thought about the first time she had seen Joan. 

It had been so long ago, Bette couldn’t fully remember, but it must have been on one of those Hollywood parties. Joan had been with someone. Stanwyck, she remembered now. They had danced and Bette had left the party early. 

She walked down the stage, Joan coming towards her, and Bette looked up. They locked eyes. A spark flew between them, lighting a fire, setting the whole world in flames. Everyone felt it, Joan smiled slightly, as they got closer. Bette blushed, never looking away, brushing Joans shoulder just a bit, as she went to the other edge of the stage. 

“Perfect.”, Dean shouted. “See?”, he smiled into the room. “The tension.”, he shook his head. “I don’t know how you ladies do it.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Luise.”, Bette froze. They had been practicing this scene time and time again. Bette had never gotten the words right. The light was shining down. It was the first kiss the two characters shared. The stage would be flooded with small lights. A garden around them. 

Dean had showed them sketches from the stage designer team and not even Bette could say anything against them. If it would look half as good, it would be better than what she had ever seen. 

“I love you.”, Joan said, her voice deeper in character. Bettes Eyes flickered from one blue to the other. So much emotion waited there for her. Luise would feel love, Dean had told her. Unconditional love. Bette was scared. Her pulse was rapid, her breath shallow, Joan knew something didn’t translate into the play.

“I-“, she buried her face into her hands. 

“I’m sorry.”, she said loudly. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry guys.”, turning she stepped back to her mark, shaking her head at herself. Why was this so hard. This was acting. This was what she had always excelled at. 

“Bette.”, Dean sprinted to them, looking at her with worried eyes. “Is everything alright?”, his hand felt werid on her arm. 

“It’s fine. I just can’t get the feeling. Maybe we should stop.”, she looked apologetic at Joan. 

“Okay.”, Dean gathered them all in a circle. “This has been a great few days. I will draw up a list, what scene we will practice on what day. We have about 10 weeks left and until then everyone must give their best. This week we won’t need the supporting cast, please everyone practice your lines. Next week we’ll do the first act all in one go and then look deeper into a few scenes.” 

The actors nodded, smiling and then leaving, bags and shoes shuffled.  
„If you have questions.“, Dean shouted after them, „just send me a note.“ Bette turned to leave as well, but Joan held her back. 

“Joan and I,” Dean approached Bette directly, “had talked about something and maybe you’d be up for it.”, Joan smiled softly. 

„This might help us all.“, the soft voice travelled into Bettes mind. 

“Yes?“,the blonde looked at Joan, confused. 

„We thought we should do some unconventional methods, for trying to get a feeling on how we want to portray out characters.“

Bette gulped. „What do you mean.“, she asked. 

„We know, Bette, you have a Great schooling in acting.“, Dean sat down on one of the props. 

Bette nodded, she prided herself in her good schooling. 

„But maybe we could stray away from learned acting and resort to method acting.“

Bette turned around. „Are you kidding me?“, she exhaled. „And what in gods name is that supposed to help us?“

„Just give it a try Bette.“, Dean looked at Joan. „It’ll be a learning experience for all.“

Bette thought about it. Pah. New learning. Brother, she didn’t need new learning, she needed to collect herself. 

„And how.“, she searched for a cigarette. She could have sworn she had one in her purse. „Is that supposed to go.“

Joan blushed. „We will do it this week. Just...you know. Living in character. For one week. You know....“, she trailed off. 

„Its so important that you two understand the relationship that you will portrait. Right now I get „great friends“ from you. We need „lovers that have known each other for a long time“. You’d be send away for a week. In a secluded Area. With a garden. No limit on how late you stay up. Away from the city. No people around. You’ll try and find your characters.“, Dean explained. „Will you? Bette please.“

Bette took a deep breath, she looked at Joan, who had a look In her eyes, that Bette couldn’t place. She had seen it before, a glimmer, something shining. 

„I did it last year and it improved the Performance greatly.“, Joan nodded at Dean. 

„Okay.“, she shook her head. What bad could it be. She’d be sitting around the country for a week and nothing would happen and she’d be able to think about her character. What could go wrong. 

........

The train took off, only the two on them sitting there. They were not talking, neither had packed anything. The costume department would send clothes for an „authentic touch“, as Dean put it. 

„We should probably start.“, Joan smiled again, the same look on her face. She looked at her watch, pressed a button and a timer started to run. 

„How?“ suddenly Bette felt a bit lost. 

„Well just. Pretend. What do you think Luise and Rose would do on a train ride together?“

„Probably read?“, Bette thought about the things Luise and Rose would have probably done on that exact train ride. She crossed her legs. 

„7 days Luise.“, she propped her leg up. Bettes eyes fell on the pants she was wearing, loose, but pressed. „If anything is too much for you, just say.“, she thought about it for a minute. „Pepper.“

Okay. Bette took out her book, opening it, staring at a piece of paper. None of the letters made any sense. Joan took out her own book. Why would she need a word like that? They were going to learn their lines and sit around knitting all day.

„So. Luise. What are you reading?“, Joan asked her.

Bette tried to find the ditsy, exciting voice, she had in mind for Luise. „a rather interesting novel. I can’t lend it to you, if you want to. It’s about. Two girls, living in a castle.“

Joan raised an eyebrow. „Isnt it nice, that we will be all alone? The train is so empty as well.“

Bette blushed. „Yes very much so.“, she felt her insides twist. What was Joan going on about?

„It’s been so long since I had you, Luise.“, Joan dropped her voice, her eyes still fixed on her book. 

Bette didn’t say anything. Her breathing quickened. She hadn’t even considered that it was going to turn in this direction. She had thought. She blushed. She looked at her book. Luise and Rose would definitely fuck on this train. Joan wasn’t wrong. 

The train came to a stop. „Oh we’re here.“, Joan held out her hand and helped Bette up. 

„That was quick.“, she mused, holding Bettes hand in hers, helping her off the train. They had stopped in the middle of no where. Beside a path, there was nothing but grass and trees for as wide as Bettes eyes reached. 

„Good thing were so close to Paris.“, Joan smiled. Paris right. The play. 

They started to follow the path, grass wet with the afternoon air, the sun started to set, as they reached a small cottage. 

In the Play, Luise and Rose would run away to a cottage and live there for the rest of their lives, cultivating a garden and now, here they were. 

„We made it.“, Joan laughed, opening the door, smelling the air, a sent all cottages had in common. 

„We did.“, bette leaned against the door. What would Luise do. She would kiss Rose. They were finally alone and able to love each other freely. 

Joan found a letter on a small table next to the door, before Bette could even begin to think about how she would kiss Joan, no not Joan. Rose. 

„Ah yes.“, it was Joans voice now, not Roses. 

„We have an hour a day where we can be out of character, the rest should be in, so we can talk about what we’ve learned. Like last time.“, her eyes sparkled, she folded the letter and smiled. „But why should we do that, we’ve just began to learn about it.“

Her facial expression shifted, turning from business Joan to rose.

„We made it Luise.“, she stepped forward. Bettes back was now against the door. 

Bette took in a deep breath. This was a lot. It took her a lot, but she propped up her leg against the wall, holding the doorknob I’m her hand and looked at Joan. 

„We’re not finished.“, she whispered. 

Joan took another step into her direction, her eyes filled with lust. Damn she was a good actor. 

„I believe we have some business left open.“, Bette pressed her back away from the door. Joan closed the gap between them, her body now flush with Bettes. 

Bettes breath hitched. The leg she had propped up against the door was now against Joans hip.  
She leaned forward. Her lips met Joans, and the slender woman moaned into her mouth, as they started To kiss. Bette wrapped her leg around Joan, bringing her closer, as her arm stared to tremble. 

This was not acting for Bette. The blonde got lost under the lips, she made noises, under Joans lips and attention, her center screaming for more. 

„Let’s get up Luise.“, Joan whispered. Bette was confused for a second. The play. Yes. She nodded. Her legs suddenly weak, as she stumbled behind Joan. Bette opened the bedroom door and stood there. Her back towards Joan. Luise would be the strong one.

„Unzip me please.“,Bettes voice was laced with arousal, slick and hoarsely. Joans fingers trembled, as she pushed the garment aside and it fell to the ground. 

The blonde turned around, stepping towards Joan, her fingers met the buttons on the silky blouse, opening one after the other. Each inch she uncovered made her go crazy. Her legs were trembling now, as she pushed the blouse away revealing milky skin. Joan blushed. This was not acting anymore. For neither of them. 

Bettes mind stopped working and she dropped to her knees, her body now going on its own, not thinking about the play anymore. She fumbled with Joans belt, yanking down the pants. No underwear. Joan leaned against the door, her eyes closed. Her fingers found a way into Bettes hair, who just knelt before what she had found. Staring. 

She licked over her lips, her mouth now dry.


	17. Chapter 17

Her fingers trembled as she traced a line from Joans knee to her thigh. Joan leaned back against the door with a long sigh.

“Are you going to fuck me or what, Luise.”, she husked. 

Bettes eyes snapped up, meeting with Joans blue orbs. Joan raised her eyebrow, pushing out her hip a bit and leaned her pelvis forwards. 

Bette gulped. Her eyes were still fixed on Joans face, as she slid her hands onto the thighs. Her nails cut into the skin, pushing them apart. She moved forward a bit, her breath now hitting the skin under her. Joan closed her eyes, waiting for her next move. 

Nervously she looked at the woman’s body. It was not like she had never seen a woman’s anatomy, she just never had look at it from this angle. 

Then Bette leaned in. She pressed a timid kiss on the thigh, that shook under her in excitement, another a bit higher, the skin salty under her lips. She turned her face, brushing the wetness, Joan exhaling loudly, as she started to circle her way around the wet skin. 

“Please, Bette.”, Joan moaned. Bette didn’t notice the slip up, she just kept going. Joans hand pulled Bette against her, holding her tightly, tucking at the hair, hurting her just enough for her to moan in delight. She tasted unlike anything Bette had ever had. 

When Joan nearly collapsed against the door, her legs already shaking, she looked up. It was too much for Joan, the blue eyes looking up from between her legs, and she grasped the doorknob as she shook her way though her orgasm.

She slid down the door. Her breathing hard and unregulated. 

“I love you Luise.”, Joan whispered, as she pulled Bette In for a kiss. The blonde looked down. The play. Right. 

“I love you too Rose.”, she husked between kisses, Joans essence on her lips, her nose, her face. Joan took her face into her hands, studying her long and well, before kissing her cheek so softly Bette thought she would weep with longing. 

Joans cheek rested on Bettes chest, her breath hit the beating skin, the enflamed heart rattling under her ear. Bette lazily went over her hair, marvelling at the softness. They both were covered in sweat. 

“I’ll go take a shower, Luise.”, Joan got up, opened the door and Bette was left alone. 

“This is just the play Bette. No feelings involved.”, she whispered to herself, trying to convince herself of the undeniable lie. A tear ran down her face. The rollercoaster that Joan Crawford was, got to her. Only minutes ago Bette had screamed her heart out, in pure bliss but now she felt undeserving and as if she was cheating at a game, Joan didn’t even know she was playing. 

Bette took a look Into the closet, in search for a bathrobe, found a linen pyjama shirt and put it on, the buttons left open. No one would see her here. 

She knew, Joan would not eat the food she prepared, so she just fixed a drink for herself, waiting for her to come down. 

“Luise, will you make us dinner?”, Joans wet head appeared on top of the staircase. 

Wait she was allowed to make dinner? Bette went into the kitchen. What had possessed the woman. Oh the part. Yes. Rose would not be scared of a bit of food. 

Bette scrambled some eggs, threw together a few vegetables, she found in the fridge and set the table. 

“That looks divine.”, the soft voice Startled her. 

“It’s just eggs.”, Bette tried to stay in character, her softer voice already exhausting her. She wanted to scream at Joan, asking her why she did this to her. Why she wanted this. 

“I didn’t mean the food, Luise.”, Joan took a step forward, sinking onto her knees on the cold tiles, Bette against the kitchen counter, pulling down her fresh underwear.

“The food will be-“, Bette moaned into Joans touch, her skin hit again. It was hard for her, to stay on her feet, her legs feeling like a straw. 

“Sit on the counter then.” Joan pushed her backwards. Bettes bare behind touched the cold marble, something Joan would have hated, but Rose seem to not be bothered by. 

They ate cold eggs in silence. Bette still flushed, Joan with a glow in her eyes, that only would be comparable to a Christmas tree. 

Bettes watch rang. Dean was on the other line. 

“Hi ladies.”, they could hear his affectionate smile. 

“Hi Dean honey.”, Joan beamed.

“I just wanted to check in with you two, is everything alright? The characters feeling much more natural already I imagine!” 

Bette blushed, happy that Dean couldn’t see it. 

“Well we’ve certainly grown much more understanding of each other.”, Joan chimed. 

“Luise is a great cook. She made eggs.”, the slender woman chucked. 

“Well I’m glad everything is going well. As you know you have one hour a day, where you can discuss anything and if you ever need something just tell me.”

They ended the phone call and Joan got up to clean the dishes. 

“Let me.”, Bette took over. This was going to be a test. 

“No I-“, Joan stopped. 

“Rose darling, let me do this for you.”, Bette dipped the plate Into the hot water, smiling sweetly. 

“Alright.”, Joan pressed out. “I’m going to bed early tonight.”

Bette chuckled. “I’ll join later.”

The stars wer shining onto the house and Bette shivered under the blanket she had taken outside. 

“Aren’t you cold?”, Joan whispered. 

“No.”, Bette moved, letting Joan join her. The fair woman got under the blanket with her. 

“It’s so peaceful.”, she rested her head on Bettes shoulder. “I love you.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL! IM BACK

They rode back in silence, the train humming them both into a slumber. The week had passed like a dream. Bette and Joan, Rose and Luise, in love. They had made pancakes and orange juice, they had kissed and hugged, and husked words. Joan was a wonderful actress, Bette could almost forget that this was just for the play. 

“I think this improved a lot.”, Joan smiled at her sitting a few feet apart from her. Bette missed her body already, her skin screaming for contact. 

“Improved what.”, she coughed, her throat dry. 

“Our friendship and the play. Isn’t this nice?”, Joan smiled her big smile, as she brushed back her hair. Her neck was covered in bruises, Bettes lips had left there. 

“I’m so glad your my friendship soulmate, Bette.”, the woman let her white teeth show, the smile was gentle and real. Bette gulped. This was just for the play. Right. Noch back to the friendship. Sure. This was doable. She pinched herself, as she stared at Joans lips. 

The two had not been friends for that long, Bette hadn’t even considered friendship with the strange woman until she died and now she was dying to kiss her, to make her happy. But if a friendship made Joan happy she would keep it to herself and suffer for a while. The feelings would pass, time would heal the wounds. 

The train entered the station, a committee greeted them. 

“Bette!”, Dean shouted. “Joan! Ah you two look wonderful. I can already tell this will make our play much better.”, he smiled his white, fake smile. “Now freshen up and come down In an hour, we have a meeting with the important cast!” 

They were ushered into a car, driven to the building and left in their room. “Are you okay?”, Joan whispered as they entered their shared space.  
Bette nodded, slightly overwhelmed. In a state of uncertainty, Bette Davis was the kind of person to be quiet. She observed the room, the energy and then, when she gathered enough information, she was able to make up her mind about it. 

Joan on the other hand spoke her mind freely. “Bette dear.”, she grasped the blondes hands. “You are a great friend. Now I’ll change and we both go down and tell them how good of an actress you are.” 

The meeting was fine. The cast had lots of questions, people wondered how it went and if they were lovers now and talked about the scenes they had practiced all week long. Joan answered with her movie star smile, enjoying being the center of attention, while Bette kept her distance, nodding and drinking her coffee. 

“But How real is it.”, a woman asked concerned. 

“Its a play dearest.”, Joan patted her hands. “We are actresses remember?”

Bette huffed. She hadn’t acted. But....what if Joan had. Had she just pretended to like what Bette did to her? Had she not shaken under her hands? Was she really that good? 

The thought plagued her even at night. Joan had fallen asleep quickly, her breath smoothly echoing around their bedroom. She kept to her side and Bette missed the warmth of her body against her. She shook her head. This was all a big mistake. She wasn’t a lesbian, this was just pretending and she wouldn’t have it. 

The next morning they arose quietly, sipping coffee, when one of their technical devices chimed. “Joan.”, Dean screamed excitedly. “I have great news for you.” He, or more his video self, waved his arms around in the way only a business man would do. “Guess who’s joining us today. She just came into town, got sorted into this house and IS in our time frame! I would have guessed she would have been a night person.”, he kept on rambling. 

This would be a really important person to die, Bette guessed. Joan smiled. “Is it an old friend of mine?” Dean nodded. “Did I meet her in New York?”, he smiled even bigger as she blushed. “Yes.” 

“Oh god.”, Joan squeezed the table. “Barbara?” He grinned. “Yes and Shell join the Production. Obviously. A powerhouse of acting.”, rubbing his hands he ended the call, to prepare everything. 

Joan laughed out loud. “Barbara died.” Her eyes glistened in excitement. “This is great news. Oh she’ll make the play so so so good.” The woman bounced around the kitchen. 

“Stanwyck?”, Bette didn’t smile. She was never friends with her.

“Yes! Oh god Barbara and I have known each other for a lifetime.”, washing her cup her face lit with fond memories. “We used to be l-“, she stopped. “Friends”

Bette felt a pang of jealousy. Lovers. They had been lovers. She tried to make herself look normal. “Oh how nice.” When she got to undress she growled.


End file.
